I Still Say This:

no thought passes through my mind
without also graving my lips.
chattering away every secret.
birds on the telephone line.
kicking myself for being so wide open.
always a tactless emergency landing.
the subtle nod of agreement.
the firm belief in always getting the last word.

i will swear i have nothing to say.
and then i’ll say this:
do you know how hard it is to be wounded in front of so many people?
no one ever talks about that.
did you know that i’m embarrassed to be the lamb licking at the hand of my butcher?
i’m begging for redemption.
a second chance at life.
did you know that a hot shower makes me lightheaded?
i’m on my hands and knees and i’m praying
and i’m repressing
if it’s meant to be it will be.
if it’s meant to be it will be.
if it’s meant to be it will be.
i don’t believe myself.
do you know my favorite color?
did you know my grandmother waited until my birthday to die?
did you know that i don’t believe you?

all this
and still i’m here, getting the last word.
and still i’m here, trying to shake you and make you hear.
and still i’m here, licking your hand.
and still i’m here, lightheaded under the water.
and still i’m here, trying to claw my way out.