I experience joy as vertigo.

When I exult, it’s like a step was missed

On the staircase that leads away from woe

So, to appease alarm, I’ve a checklist:

Since I’ve food, housing, health, and enough wealth

Since I’m presently spared from bereaving

Nothing is wrong, I reassure myself

Which is novel for one used to grieving.

My delight leaves me walking on thin air

And no ill portents warn not to enthuse

Then I clutch at the railing, get a scare

When I notice I have something to lose.

I’m giddied with glees, of which I’ve my pick

It’s dizzying how well my days are spent

I’m now so happy, I feel vaguely sick

With fear that comes from being so content.

…

Suddenly

I twitch

Trapped in memory

I subtly glitch.

I grimace, but slightly

Fight recollections

Lest I bother somebody

I hide my emotions.

I’ve experienced a flashback

By the time I’m done blinking

I am weathering my mind’s attack

Trying to keep it from showing.

To bring about the end of my dark thought

I quickly sever the hydra’s head

Yet, despite this, my guilt refuses to rot

And my humiliation won’t stay dead.

The first regret to lunge at me, I can defeat

But the shames spawned from its carcass smell my flaws

So they hunt me down, stalk me, slavering for fresh meat

A single trigger will gain a great many maws.

I badly want to be heard without hurting 

I’ll confess, I also need to be seen to 

I want to have impact without provoking

I am truly not trying to destroy you.

I oftentimes wonder do I have the right 

To detail in my lines my experience 

When it is always about you that I write 

The debate weighs heavily on my conscience. 

Because we’ve shared soil, my heading, I did geld 

It pains me something awful to confess so 

To admit that, years of silence, my tongue held 

As, your secrets, they are my secrets also.  

It’s terrifying to permit myself to speak 

Outside the bounds of our long-held covenant 

Yet it’s catharsis that allows me to speak 

Beyond the censure of loyal sentiment. 

I only write what I now and that is you 

My unapologies, dear unwilling muse 

When my pain ebbs, I’ll have stories that are now 

I’ll write something happy, something to amuse. 

Since you live in tales I own, there’s normal choice 

I can’t spill my tears without you crying too 

It isn’t easy to give myself a voice 

How to say you hurt me without shaming you? 

I’m a good houseguest to invite into your heart

I’ll admire all of your renovations

I’ll compliment your new decorations

I won’t start fights with the topics I bridge

And I’ll ask you before I raid your fridge.

Because I’m well aware of how to play my part

You won’t need confess your guest room’s a mess

As I will just spare you the awkwardness

Long before you need beg for a reprieve

I’ll take a hint and I will take my leave.

I’ve brought a hostess gift you’ll surely find of worth

As present, to show you how much I care,

I’ve sworn I’ll ask for less than you can spare

To soothe your stress that you give poor welcome

I promise that I won’t prove wearisome.

Some rooms are marked off limits – I’ll give those due berth

I will carry the burden of your “no”

I won’t stray where you’ve asked me not to go

It’s not that I won’t make myself at home

But, from self-restraint, I’ll watch where I roam.