I toy with angst like a forgotten birthday card.
It should go in a drawer somewhere...
I was born to crying so why not cry now;
return myself to a frail statement of need.
They said safety and I heard only that they were afraid.
Why should my life be in other hands than my own?
Somehow, repeating the task of breathing and the chore of eating,
returned some light to the place... broke up the clouds.
Someone talking to me makes me feel less alone
only, the next minute I am alone again
still in conversation, not able to really listen.
No one can see inside me, despite trying;
I would like to pull out the insides so they can.
Eventually, the feel of a heavy coat being removed,
a bit more freedom to take a breath.
I don't know if I can put this all away to be forgotten,
but, I might just put it on display... for a while?
If I show a little frailty I don't have to be burdened
with every pain to handle alone.
There's the plan anyway, the new plan,
that involves more than just avoiding more birthdays.