A Journey for Two

"OH MY GOSH WHAT HAPPENED TO YOUR ARM?"
I could feel the sea of necks turn as if each of them were my own,
staring at my secrets spilled out on my forearm,
and before I could gather them under my jacket all but one had been viewed.
The entire MTA bus line had just witnessed my pass night.
Each of my dirty little lies,
every "I'm fine" had just been thrown back into my face;
and it tasted a lot like blood,
it felt a lot like the emotional thing I physically ignore,
it smelt like embarrassment.
My body grew hot.
I began to pick as if the air whipping past my fingers, scratching at my scars, would cool my insides,
because the world I live in is not this happy little place where everyone is content with the set of cells they were given,
and sadness is a cancer growing inside the people you eat your lunch with...
I hope this didn't distort the picture you had of me.
I promise I'm the same.
I mean, besides the suicide attempts
the torturous night terrors
the psychiatric hospital visits
I'm not that different from you.
I walk on two legs.
I write with my right hand.
I even bleed red blood.
I have the stains on my skin to prove it...
I know I'm not perfect.
I know I need better coping skills.
I know I get really awkward when I meet a new person.
I know I'm loud...like really REALLY loud.
I know I ramble when I get anxious, I know a lot of things about me.
like I know I'm loyal, and I'm a good friend.
If you need to cry, I'll cry with you.
I'll dislocate my limbs and give them to you,
because pillows grow cold and stuffed animals don't talk back.
And if that boy won't leave you alone I'll bite him in his shins.
And if someone breaks your heart I'll go looking for them.
And when they're found I'll put my finger in their chest and tell their mistakes to their face, and if they're bigger then me...
we can just talk smack about their clothes at a very far distance.
I'll do this until you realize cheeks are for smiling and voices are the body's natural speakers for laughter,
yeah we fall.
And on our way off the ground we find our skin wrapped in thorns,
but I've been told that above the thorns are these red peddles blossoms.
I think she called them roses...or rases...or whatever it was I want to see them.
And things are better in pairs so why don't you tag along.
That way if you fall I'll catch you,
and when I start to talk about jumping, you will tie me to the stem of whatever is rooting out of the earth until I remember why I made it this far.
When we'll get there
I don't know.
But we and start now,
and worry about that
when we get there