I spend my time tripping
over the lines that keep us all
from spilling out onto each other,
running towards an open soul
only to find it barricaded by flesh.
We are such curious creatures –
the only kind that put up electric
fences where there should be rope,
allowing those who bring
scissors to cut through,
instead of frying anyone who touches.
Take me out, wring me out,
toss me with everyone else
into a pile of rags where we still
wouldn’t look each other in the eye,
into the grayness and edges and
parts that nobody ever wants to see.
What a terribly beautiful truth,
what a beautifully terrible truth,
what a truly beautiful terror.