Tears in my eyes

I’m afraid of what people will think of I let out all the crazy thoughts inside me.

Will they believe what I’ve written - take all the words at face value, forget to dig deeper?

My poems and prodding’s aren’t simple sentences.

Given a glance they look like bitterness and pride.

Look deeper and you’ll see my eyes - full of tears - my heart - full of righteous anger.

And please don’t forget to keep looking lower - there’s always a door that’s not quite visible to the naked eye of the fully grown beholder.

Only children understand most of these things.

My poems and proddings are like this - dark doorways hollowed out in the side of a cliff - a safe place for sparrows and baby birds to hide in a storm but not big enough for a theme park or roller coasters.

I wish my heart was formed like a theme park.

But... apparently God wanted to make someone who wouldn’t look away when He cried.

So when everyone else looks the other way, I draw in close, and make everyone else quite uncomfortable just by being and existing.

And by everyone else, I just mean everyone who is afraid to die.