quiet in the friday

I'm afraid. I'm afraid of a lot of things. I'm afraid of freedom.
car accidents
rapists
dogs
sharks
men
women
talking
being open
being alone
I don't like typing on this computer
this laptop
this is not mine
it is his
all that I have is borrowed from him
all that I want to have I have to have the desire to get up and earn
but I never will
I already have


Her shadow hasn't hung over me in a long time now.
Since the sick stalking has ceased
and I hated myself and it never made me feel better
and now she has no power over me
maybe
maybe there is power in what I can accomplish
maybe there is validity in me
in the me
in the dreams of me
in the abilities
those gifts closeted away
hiding from the others from the them from the outsiders
dumbing down to fulfill the role
I'm over it
I'm over that and now ready, partly at least, to be a little more daring
to go get myself ice cream
maybe I'll run
maybe I'm afraid that I'll get out too far and not want to come back
maybe I won't come back and that will be murderous
and it would be tragic
but God
remember the deal
the pact
the covenant
the transformation in the midst of the altercation
that random encounter that changed the course of fate and made it all different
better for a time
when there was a one to kiss it all away
when there was a one who made the me want
who made the me laugh
and that died
and now there is the decade old us and the me and the mine and the longing and the irritation and the selfishness
and then there are the memories and the history and the grandeur of the big
 of the history that tore me out of the pain and the crazy and the making me want
and what i want is to want the healthy the happy
the best and the reasonable and the healthy
but there is the lost and there is the lonely and there isn't release and there isn't fulfillment
just waiting for that some day when it will all get better than the now when it all gets better
like magic
like a spell
like a miracle
and the cycle goes on it continues and loses me in it and I'm at a loss
lost in the now when I'm free to think and I think too much and I think of the losses
 and I think of the past and the dad I abandoned who abandoned me first
and I wonder if I'll ever be able to explain to any of them what it all truly meant
did it mean anything?
was the cry heard if not seen?
was there a sign asking for help?
will there be grace in the acceptance of all the eccentricities that make me up
when
my mind
goes out
my
mouth
and its all heard
like I want it to be
like it was meant
to be
like I never want you to hear it

because the rivalry I've created riles up in me and I hate you and I want to do it all better and bigger and more successfully than you could ever
and I don't like you
and I like to think of your demise

but I wander
and I'm sick
and I wonder if I'm the only one who thinks like I think
but then I remember that there are the others and the ones who can't make eye contact in the crowd who
can't make the small talk like the man
who hate the loud and read the books and are
just
like
me
and that makes me feel a little more free and that someday I'll join that exclusive club that I never thought I could join because there never was a place for aspiration in the sacrifice of survival
in the myriad of prison homes that we've run through
just a place to be free
I'd like a place to be free
where the walls don't feel like they hold me in
but that they contain me wrapping me in the safety of their stability
ability
likeability
and to be
and I suppose some day I'll make peace with the beast and reconcile the docile submissive tiny one and the loud and angry creative one
the dichotomy I created for myself to have an escape from the chaos
that chaos that was real
the tragedy we narrowly avoided and all the loss
and all the tears
 and all the yelling
and the being alone and the lonely cries and then
all the boys filling the void and the diversion of getting the numbers and making them smile and being free to get the attention of others who might like to have yours
and they had mine
all
and then the ring
and then the finality
and the security and the
monogamy
and the babies
lots of the babies that led to the illness
the darkness of an illness that put into another cell
another confinement
that encompassing bigness that trapped you, tiny

maybe you'll sing
maybe it would be amazing to be free