i'm holding it all in my hands
like it's something fragile
your words your smiles your open arms your knowing
of me my soft spots bus times eating habits
wrapped as with wool in easy sentences
like next week usual time

i'm holding it all in my hands
along with bags of groceries
of duties plans calendars filled with
names of people wanting things and
giving things that i forgot at home
or i will lose tomorrow

i see an apple fall out of the bag
i'm holding it all in my hands
not enough hands to hold it in a way
that makes it safe from shattering
if i trip on the sidewalk and find myself
with no one there to catch me

i let the apple roll down the street
for someone else to trip on
won't risk dropping the now in my hands
hoping in thanks it might whisper
don't worry honey i'm yours
i'm yours i'm yours to keep

she wakes me up
in the morning
with a sharp tug
saying
there are fire alarms
ringing
the monsters under the bed are
singing
she touches my face and it is
stinging
digs in her nails and i am
clinging
to her as she devours me
bringing
the fear much closer every
blink
it gets inside me i can't
think
the world around me seems to
shrink
i'm centimeters from the
brink
the cliff is steep the water deep i'll
sink
she looks at me again gives me a
wink
it's just a morning
just an empty room
just me in bed alone
ripping myself open
for monday

weird how some people say rats stink
they clearly smell like love
like quiet squeaks and laughter
like the soft to the touch feeling
of us becoming friends

you should appreciate your little victories
i do

for example today,
i conquered my telephone-phobia

if only you could see
my hands
valiantly reaching
to
call
off
that
dentist
appointment

i know this hurricane
we've been here before
different versions of me in different suits of skin
with some of the lies written in different colors
in hail and rain and snow

it's comforting, in a way
when it's here at least the wait is over
and i know exactly how things work here
i can look for all that's left in the whirlwind
and find my legs and arms and phone and a cup of tea

and i am calm
calm in the only way that feels permanent
because there's nothing to protect anymore and i am absolved
and i can just sit back and listen
to my mind mimicking the sounds of thunder

i don't want to be helpless
i don't want to be functional and gone
it's a difficult problem to optimize
the best heuristic so far has been a slightly romanticized approach

it goes like this:

i build my armour, but it's made of flowers
it's not as heavy
and i'm always ready to pick one and give to you and show you what's inside

i still have it in me to fight for it
to say that i believe they'll always grow back