āToday I am wearing lacy black underwear
For the sole purpose of knowing I am wearing them.
And Iāve got skin. Miles and miles of skin;
Iāve got skin to cover all my thoughts
like saran wrap that you can see through
to what leftovers are inside from the night before.
And despite what you might think, my skin is not rough; nor is it bullet proof.
My skin is soft, and smooth, and easily scarred.
But that doesnāt matter, right?
You donāt care about how soft my skin is.
You just want to hear about what my fingers do in the dark.
But what if all they do is crack open windows?
So I can see lightening through the clouds.
What if all they crave is a jungle gym to climb for a taste of fresher air?
What if all they reach for is a notebook or a hand to hold?
But thatās not the story you want.
You are licking your lips and baring your teeth.
Just once I would like to be the direction someone else is going.
I donāt need to be the water in the well.
I donāt need to be the well.
But Iād like to not be the ground anymore.
Iād like to not be the thing people dig their hands in anymore.
Some girls know all the lyrics to each otherās songs.
They find harmonies in their laughter.
Their linked elbows echo in tune.
What if I canāt hum on key?
What if my melodies are the ones nobody hears?
Some people can recognize a tree,
A front yard, and know theyāve made it home.
How many circles can I walk in before I give up looking?
How long before Iām lost for good.
It must be possible to swim in the ocean of the one you love without drowning.
It must be possible to swim without becoming water yourself.
But I keep swallowing what I thought was air.
I keep finding stones tied to my feet.ā
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