It's become exhausting being a caricature of a human. All at once, I'm too over-the-top to be considered normal and much to internalized to have real depth with the people I wish to have depth with.

And god knows, I've gotten better at being honest. Not that I was much for lying, at least in perhaps the most traditional sense of the word. But I certainly was incapable of having real human interaction. Maybe it was fear that kept me frozen and unable to communicate what I wanted most to say.

Surely, it was a defense mechanism. It's a lot harder to be disappointed by someone when you refuse to let them be close to you. And it's certainly a lot harder for someone to break you into insignificant pieces when you don't allow them any hold on you.

But somehow being distant because of the fear of people breaking you leaves you even more vulnerable to it. I lost ----- because I couldn't be a real person.

I lost you too.

And perhaps it's too late to make amends and say, "I swear I'm not quite as horrible a person as I've pretended to be. The caricature I've become is definitely not what I intended to be."

But I just want you to know that I'm trying to be honest. And I'm trying to be happy.

But I know I'll never let you know.

She loved the world too easily,
She had no way of knowing
That life will wait to strike you down
When your soft side is showing.
She gave of self, such sacrifice
And when little else was left,
Twas cast aside most heartlessly
Left broken-down and so bereft.

Now bitterness her sword and shield
She wields with silent fervor,
And keeps her love from light of day
And those who don't deserve her,
And trust, it seems, the stuff of dreams,
She's buried far too far down,
In self-defense, it makes no sense
To ever let your guard down.

She has forgotten how to love
As she did way back before,
Before heartache had worn her down
Until she could take no more.
Perhaps someday she'll find a way
Her heart can again be free,
Til then, trust seems the stuff of dreams
Of some faded yesterday.

hard of hearing
bleeding out
taking pills
in excess
hearing voices
seeing things
unreal sounds
playing games
different face,
different name,
different hair,
never the same
afraid of stale water
afraid of change
keeping distance
finding blame
i'm sure some of it is true
i'm not a good storyteller after all
just a chameleon
self defense mechanism
stumbling through all the fog
when i was little i changed myself every time we moved away
i had determined that life was a game and i just had a bad hand to play
i learned how from a very young age to start bluffing and counting cards
when your identity is molded from ways to avoid pain you start to forget who are
don't raise your voice here
2 parts delusions 3 parts fear
please believe me, i love you
please believe me i do
please believe me i'm drowning
you don't believe me, do you?

My inner Trump is building walls;
defense
from 'fugee thoughts
and outside influence

The borders are now closed.
Nothing's coming through,
not even you

Can you dig?
Or climb?
Or fly?
Up for coup?

I don't really care how much you yell at me.
Don't you know by now that I'm not changing my response?

You belittle my attitude, my beliefs.
You tell me I'm wrong,
You don't give me a chance to defend myself.

Pushing more and more comments in my face,
I can't keep up with the bullets flying by me.

What if next time I let a bullet hit me?
Would you even care?

So it happens like this
Everyone is watching, and I'm begging
Look at me! Please!
For just a second, hour, day! Please!

Don't you see the issue? I'm constantly
Effecting everyone, every day
Still, I'm not, I'm not,
That important to the whole scheme
Really I should just walk away
Unless someone really cares, I'll fade
Care not, farewell
To the long drop and deep sleep,
I wish, I want, I would, I could if
Only I could give it up, A toast! To
No one, no where, no way, and no how

these are not my hands, they are my bow and arrows
they are my weapons, my self-defense, my fortified walls
they flex and bend and push and cradle and create and destroy
i find in them the source of my power
they're the brave ones, tracing down my thoughts when my lips are too cautious to speak
they're the proud ones, delicately vain as they sketch the skeletons of beauty onto dusty piano keys
when i am empty and numb they stir a spoon in a cup of tea and wait for me to feel something
when i am shaking with a great and terrible anger they clench and unclench and clench and unclench and clench and unclench and heal
my hands are my heroes
and they are my villains
i control the volume in my palms because sometimes it gets loud and because sometimes my heartache is deafening and because sometimes i need to drown in the thumping, the crashing, the assault of my fingers on the unassuming ivory
and because sometimes i wallow in my self pity and because sometimes it feels good to be surrounded by the quiet sound of my tears on my cheeks
from my fingertips to my wrist i am a goddess, all slender bone and delicate veins snaking under taut, soft skin
i feel capable and lovable and just able, just pure, when i crack my knuckles before returning to my writing
it is easy to forget that aphrodite could cause catastrophe too, that her face (my hands) were more than just pretty and decorative
i remember each hit
each poke
each grasp
each clench
each stretch
each caress
each punch
and i love them like my children
the pain i've brought, from my right hand to my left forearm and from my left hand to someone else's right cheek and everything in between, it is with me always like the scars i've left and i could hate myself
so easily
but in the aftermath of my earthquake, i love my power
comfort is knowing that i'm a straight shot
that my bow and arrows can execute what odysseus did
comfort is knowing that i'm a *****
that i unnerve those that deserve it and dethrone the prideful queen
so i sleep peacefully even when i don't sleep

Quickly he picked up
keenly examined
and seemed to admire
the handy penknife
with sharp blades,
quite functional,
she hurriedly pulled out
from the clutch she carries;
she was searching
frenetically for something
when it inadvertently
showed up, she deliberately
didn't pay attention
to his expressed curiosity,
yet her eyes adequately
answered his loud
unasked question.

In words he didn't ask WHY?
though it echoed in his eyes.