the new day shrugs its shoulders at me
i fill up on coffee and emptiness
to shake off the ghosts from last night
i limp through conversations with my lips tightly shut
(God forbid the fear slips out or someone sees my teeth)
and i set my watch by the relief
i plan to find that evening
and when little turds of anger or sadness crawl up my throat
i stuff them back down with pasta or pancakes
until i can safely examine the toilet for their viewing
it feels unwise to write all this down
so maybe i should take a break
and just peel my toenails off instead
this way of living and non-living is how i define myself
and the cruelty on top of the punishment
is that nobody knows but me
Tasting Freedom 