i think it is thanks. i think thanks is the thing i keep thinking of.
it is the kicking screaming thing i mean to say when i am hurting
it is the silent thing i want to say when i am sitting on my cold porch
feet propped up, watching cars pass
it is thanks
it is ugly and i am not good at it
i walk around kicking gratitude like it will somehow fall from my lips
but i think you can hear me anyways
when i pray it in front of other people, i can hear myself checking off a list in a familiar tone
the hiding tone
the one where i say the right things at the right time
to pacify any potential questions
yea, I'm hangin out
yea, just living life
yea, just feeling nothing and producing catch phrases
gotchya.
on that one.
but then i was seen, and always i have been known.
even the most intimate tender parts that i try to offer others
the ones i cannot reach, though i think i can
the ones i can't touch, hidden away
behind all the things
i would like to give them away sometime
i would like them to see the light
to know and be known
within myself, with others, without fear
i would like that
but i can't do it yet
i am too many directions
too frazzled
too scared
too much
so many automatic doors that drop down
i know you didn't mean to, but it didn't matter
like a back up system that i can't see
it all goes into lock down
be kind
abort abort, do not display
show nothing of the sort
nothing on the face
or in the tone or anywhere else
oh wait.
you saw that too i think
it is not even that i am surprised
it is that i am sad
i know its a lot of work
i know the mazes are tricky and i have automatic bombs that go off when you get too near
i know
i wish i didn't.
know, or have them.
but i do.
there are land mines and i don't own the map
there are things that would make mr jones' skin crawl
maybe not.
he didn't seem like the skin crawling type.
but either way, i know its there
i can't reach it
I've been taking rakes and shovels but i only have two hands
its just a lot
i think id like for you to help me move some of it
find a dark abyss to toss all of it
a wormhole with no end
maybe not, maybe just a different place
a wall instead of a pile
a place for it to be
cause all the Stuff wants gentleness too
it wants to be loved and not tossed
like all the stuffed animals were alive
like the toys needed to be played with equally
the Stuff needs some loving too
but i don't know if i can do it all myself
i think i need your help to love the things i have
i think i have thanks to give
cause its my stuff
a lot of it was given to me
you should say thanks when someone gives you something
so teach me please
or help me to be better
help me to give more thanks.
