The other day, I laughed.
But for the wrong reasons.
It was an empty thing.
Something unpleasant, like bad news.
Or overcooked greens.
My body remembered something,
something it misses, much more than my heart does.
Something warm, and welcome,
held gently, like a whisper against the flame of a candle
like some ephemearal salvation.
Some familiar everyday treasure.
Like a memento you forgot you're wearing.
A familiar hand falls exhausted from my face.
Tired from a life of Holding in
that chaos that barters smiles for tears.
Laughter for fear.
Smoke rings for sense.
Dancing conflagration for thirst.
This floor level tower,
this mindset cell,
this barren island of anonymous hordes-
Holds me by the ankle
with shackles of no one, no where.
No one.
There is no one
holding me here.
