mouthpiece

my teeth are numb again so i guess i’ve been drinking too much. i’m not trying to take up more space than you want me to. maybe that’s untrue. maybe i want to shed my linings & spread my limbs & breathe you in & make you breakfast in bed & not have to be so minuscule all the time. but i am not dumb enough to not be pocket sized, i am not as loose & easy as i appear. i am not so naive to believe someone like me can move like the starlets. even when i could, i couldn’t. even when i did, it wasn’t right, wasn’t wanted. & frankly the swell doesn’t matter. the saw dust, sea foam, low tide don’t add up to anything more than unsettling microwaved hot pockets in the tummy. picnic baskets & baked goods & candlelight aren’t the addends, they’re the summation. at least for me. at least so far. & i don’t want to be tainted. i also don’t want to be a fool. i can’t be crushed again in yet another sweaty palm. sometimes i think it’s invisibility but really it’s transparency. i can be seen all too clearly & i don’t know how to bluff. the weakness, the tangles, the healed over fractures so easily seen like i live permanently in an x-ray machine. it’s all a game of hide & seek & i’m always the first one out. & everything’s a magnifying glass to me. i can make anything small appear huge. i can make a tsunami out of an anthill. i can make one polite gesture into a fixation, a whisper into a scream, a kiss on the neck into an “i love you.” i fall too quickly. i fall too hard. i break eggshells in my esophagus, vases in my clammy fists. how can i ever deserve gentleness when i am not gentle? who would ever even want to? for better & for worse, i am just a mouth. it’s not heaven’s gate. it’s not even a trapdoor. it’s just never ending. it never stops. even when it knows it should. it can’t help but give it all away, betray my yarn, betray the warden. maybe the love isn’t the war at all. maybe i am the war. made up of battles & proclamations, of bloodshed, bullets, amputations. i can’t apologize enough for being who i am. & i pray to the orcas but i don’t know how to come undone, undo what i’ve always been. too much, too much. always just too much. there’s always a rush in the exchange before i tip the scale too far in one direction & all the towers fall to ground zero. i worry i’m a massacre when all i want is to be the messenger. please don’t shoot. please don’t give up. on me. please don’t prove me right. it’s a win-win for me though i suppose. either i am loved or i am right. i set up the dichotomy so i can never lose. i’d like to be more patient without falling down the elevator shaft again. but my bones are twisted, contrived. & my fingertips slip from the edge & then it’s falling straight through the darkness til i hit the water. is there a difference between flying & swimming, sensationally speaking? will i ever outgrow the easy bake oven? the pigtails? the bug eyes? i believe in my ability to create, to construct, to eviscerate. i want to believe in my ability to be seen, to be known, to be held, & to be cherished. but i don’t want to ask for too much. i don’t want to take up more space than i’m allotted. i don’t want to overstay my welcome or give you the sunday scaries. i want to rest. & i want to spread my roots out, drink up the water, the sunshine, & show you who i could be if only my heavy heart could suck helium. if only my love had a place to grow, my voice a place to be heard, my aura to be adored. i’m so sick of hiding, i’m so sick of playing prison guard. i’m so sick of feeling like i’m committing a crime by telling my stories. i want to open a corner store, i want to feed the town & my family & myself. i want to prove that there is more than red blood cells in my heart. i want to know that if it was all washed away someone would cry for me. i want to know i’ve not just been burden, just been waste. but deeply i do know that my wants are fruitless, meaningless, insignificant. that there is more to all of this than me & my little wants. so how do i utilize what i have? how do i create in a way that helps, that serves, that doesn’t just whine? how do i be greater than the summation? how do i solve the equation? it’s okay. i’ll be okay. we’ll be okay. we’ll figure it all out. it’s always okay in the end. it’s not the end. it’s never the end.