For Joey

They’ll fall through the gasp

burrowing a hole they bore in the world

that calls you weird.

You build sanded walls of worry.

wash your hands in a tepid undertow.

The salty sting answers the question of what makes you, YOU.

Whisper the answer under your breath.

Pilfering through hypochondriac growths

you name each forced positivity stretched across your youthful face.

Unsettled

And

Wondering.

Each one scrambling for the crumpled legal sheets you stack aside.

A broken sentence list.

A punctuated dick-joke.

A single line of an unfinished sex story.

You’re on a stage rubbing your head

wondering why you’re even here.

You’d rather pinch your head closed

than to have it swollen

with regurgitated tawdry when your back is turned.

Build your own foundation upon which to stand.

Leave peep holes on each floor open.

Uncurtained.

The chain on the front door wont lock.

You wrote your own escape clause

tucked it in the door mouse frame

for when you make yourself feel small enough

to crawl through

and get it later.

You’re authentic self-searching for the pull of a confetti cannon

you won’t set off

for fear of kickback.

You carved your own corners to fit inside a rounded blueprint

Flipped the yield sign

to hinge from its rusted screw

It’s safe to feel the heat from the baseboard with your hands

The bathwater won’t seep through to the first floor

The body comedic will fall from its teetering rungs

and crush you if you let it.

Handicapped or not

you can still walk your feet across the sky

Lying on your back

Flailing.