i am sitting with smoking nerves and
frayed circuit wires, everything i don't
know knotting together for me to choke
on.

if there is a door, i can't find it.
if there is an answer, i'm unaware.

instead i am falling to my knees and
crawling under the smoke, eyes watering
and knuckles bleeding. no closer to the end
than when i had begun.

if i had the courage, i'd crack open your ribs
and get the answer for myself. if i was brave,
i'd simply reach over and pinch the truth from
your tongue.

or i'd just tie my heart to the railroad tracks
and wait for you to save it. wait for you
to cradle it and whisper that the time for
pinched nerves and scraped knees is over.

but i am confused and cowardly, clutching
my chest, palms feebly protecting the only
thing i have left to defend. the only thing i
have left worth guarding.

and the thing that scares me most is not that
you might hurt me. it's not that i might end
up with a scar or a burn or a weeping laceration.

the thing that has me trembling with knees
knocking together, the thing that has my
fingers quivering and tangling is that

i might willingly step into the line of fire. i
might eagerly close my eyes and swan dive
into the rocks, throw my body into the cyclone
without so much as a second of doubt.

the thing that scares me is finding out how
weak my eroding walls might actually be. how
vulnerable and defenseless i actually am.

because you're looking my way and i'm already
swallowing the dagger, walking into the bullet,
stomaching the acid to marvel at the smoke
hissing from my throat.

you're holding out your hand and i'm
coughing up my heart, letting you run it
through the shredder because you said you
like paper-mache-emotions best.

i'm forgetting how to shield myself and
instead handing you the power to destroy.
i'm kicking my heart out without a buoy,
without shelter, without defense.  

[all because you asked.]