Walking Dead

There is a part of me that is numb to the world. It’s a wall, brick by brick, I never meant to build. It’s eyes that won’t meet yours, and a face that doesn’t change, no matter what storms war inside

there are great benefits to walking dead, when a slow measured response affords me unmeasured grace, untold panic unshown met with someone else’s more urgent, more transparent, efforts to fill the silence with comfort

An erratic reinforcing of a pattern of self alienation.

A millennia without spontaneous laughter or tears.

A game of hide and seek I used to play, where I decided love was to know me, and then I did all I could to be lost and invisible.

How I yearn to be read.

To let a peaceful demeanor reflect an internal world only when it does.

I yearn to let my heart break in public.

Let my fear be shown.

Let my joy brighten my eyes.

And for one breath

let me fill the silence with comfort.