a poem a day for a year #345

by Amy Turn Sharp


I sit at my kitchen table and pretend not to know myself.
I just want it to be quiet
no screaming words
emotions
gravity
my heart bulging out of my chest
and this is not the way everyone lives
someone once told me
and also she said
I hope you become an artist
because you may be in jail otherwise
you just can't go around doing everything you want
people are not like you
and I knew it then
like I know it now
I sit on the edge of everything
I take off all my clothes and
practice vanishing
telepathy
vibratory currents
all the small things
quiet
calm
precise
for days 
for you
this is the way to find me
this is the way to fall