Do you know me?
Or do you just think you do?
How often have you heard anger when I was crying out in pain?
[I know I have erected walls behind which I feel safe-ish.]
Did you ever climb over the wall to see what was on the other side?
I am right here.
I think all my insides are hanging out, visible through my eyes.
Aren’t they the windows of the soul?
[Or do mine just project black, empty space?]
Maybe that smoke I see through is not visible to you.
But I am here, behind my walls, desperately waiting to be rescued (from my own fortress).
[drafted in November, released now...]