17.02.02

taken down a peg or two
maybe five or six, actually
feels like i've been lowered
far beneath the surface of the earth

i sit in the darkness
listening to footsteps
the travels of the normal,
or if not normal,
then the regular

they who get up, walk around, unfettered
from endless guilt and shame
going about their lives
in a healthy way.
for them, setbacks are rare:
more common are grievances
that iron themselves out
with the advent of a good night's sleep.

it should be noted that although
i am filled with envy
(that stems from seeing people
totally secure within their own shells)
i do like being myself,
sometimes.

not all the time, maybe,
but occasionally i do feel a glimmer
allowing myself one second of contentedness
in this scarred and fragile skin.

i wonder how to express myself
while i sit alone,
wishing i had the strength to show my wounds
to those i love and admire most

while casting hints to the whole public world
about my feelings and disorders.

it's funny, isn't it,
how i'll advertise my pains to anyone who will listen,
but avoid telling my dearest friends
for fear that they will abandon me
never want to have anything to do with me,
might perhaps
change their minds about me.

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