some nights i listen for the sounds of living i worry if i go to bed when i first feel tired i will never be awake i worry if i go to sleep when i really fall asleep i will never be awake

i worry, i worry, i worry it builds up like birds sharp beaks flying up and out of my pipes tallons twitching inside my stomach but when the birds keep still using my intestines like a cable wire i can feel it bouncing in the wind of my breath

radiance holds me in a way i have never known you are radiance in the dark i can feel the energy that bounces when i feel the world you close around me so safe limbs like foliage keeping the birds comfortable i want to grow with you

You make me feel like a mean banjo

Which is to say I feel like something that rarely works

But when it does everyone is in awe

You make me feel awe inspired

You are a piece of work

I don’t mean that to sound to sound like a warning I could write about you for days and would never warn everything Like how you tend to think you’re too much, even on your best day Baby, I know I’m too much I know I spend my smallest as big as a bus It has nothing to do with you

I spent years telling people I was a sheet of paper Blank and loose leaf, a place for people to force something out they see It hasn’t been until recently I’ve let myself be the one to write the story I wonder how long you spent wondering if I’m actually going to tell you Everything I’ve told you I won’t tell you I’m still opening up boxes I packed away I’m still waking up in the middle of the night Afraid I’ve screamed and woke you I am just screaming inside my head

I spend a lot of time wondering if you’re going to ask me about this About this hamster wheel that’s been turning in my head Fueled by thoughts that I don’t tell anyone Not even my therapist You know I don’t have one I’m not ready to put all my last life on display Yes, I know that’s bullshit I know this doesn’t make sense to you I’m trying to find the words that do

This is not a trauma poem It’s just to say, that one day I want to tell you a story One you can digest with ease In the story I won’t be a prince or a palace Or the moon or the trees or a girl or a boy I’ll just be a clear image I won’t need to describe my metaphor with a less coherent metaphor There won’t be a metaphor Every word I say will make sense to you I’ll make sense to you