It is just time
let the cat out of the box
whether to bury it
or let it breathe.
Make or break
Sink or swim.
Never just slightly sever
or awkwardly float away.
That’s the real fear here:
Living now on the outside
with my secret no longer caged in.
I feel relief from my shame
But my heart’s cell feels strangely bare
since I freed it.
Empty nest syndrome
where to next?
You asked me to tell you
What’s not helpful:
The utterly adorable
way you frown
The way you waggle your hands in vain
Describing something you can’t explain
Your hair-sweeping shakes and stroking gestures
Your beautiful woodland checked shirt textures.
How you laugh, the way you smell
And really that’s only your outer shell.
So, you know, basically everything.
Can you stop being you, please?
That would be helpful.