Knowledge

I don’t have to answer to you.

The snarling of your lip
and the scratching of your claws
are free to fester, dig and holler.

I’ve got something better than your want
that negates your bloodthirsty glut

I’d offer it to you if I knew
it would do any good

but you’re not in the place,
never wearing anything but that true face

and I’m not a coward if I turn the other way.

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I knew the silence

I awoke with validation
a stemmed confession ready for penning.
Instead I knew the silence.

The crisp in the morning touched my cheeks
pinking my flesh to match my heart
worrying my lip with my teeth and trimming
my thoughts

Instead I knew the silence.

I trickled into a corner to think, sipping on solitude
and wearing the mittens of merit
like a badge from a girl scout.
I wanted to shout from the rooftops

Instead I knew the silence.

I wanted to wait, to succumb to the sate
to shower you with images wanted
and snatch them from the ether.

Instead I knew the silence.

I count on one hand the times my virtue
won out over the tide of my heart.

But I awoke to crisp with validation
to pink my heart with confession and passion
but found it was already full.

I knew the silence.

And I Return

Haven’t seen you in ten years
Your hair has changed, your face is fatter
But your eyes are still curled at the edges.

Your teeth are crooked,
Your stomach wider
Your thighs growing ever in the wrong direction.

But look at the way wise shines in your skin
The pallor of experience changing hands with pale and tan.

The bracelets on your wrist don’t fit anymore,
The charms too bulky and cross.
The eye that watches is blinded now
You can walk off the edge of unknown.

Now you balance on your toes
Once more the ballerina
Once more the clown for the pose
Your ankles criss-crossed with purple warnings.

Your chalk lines on the carpet smudge your elbows
As you rise
And sink the sweltering pile of panic
Behind you.

Suck on the words of indecision
Swallow the pride and chew on the choices
Blowing bubbles of brightly colored goals
Taking polaroids of your face for posterity

There is no more learning if these moments aren’t captured

There are clouded pillows on the foggy ground
Your face-first land is not deathly

But prepare yourself for what is to be found.