We pretend wonderfully

Sometimes we even believe it.

We are OK.

We are, we dare to say, fine.

We do not acknowledge the presence of the abyss

Or that we are standing at its edge,

            perilously close to falling in.

We stifle that part of us that, even while we fall, exults in the rush, the freedom from gravity.

But there’s a scream inside that we all try to hide

We hold on so tight, but we cannot deny

We live a lie.

But I

Cannot continue this way

I

Need to be free

I must

Step on the wet paint, out of that corner

I

Need

To be

Free

I no longer care if, when I sing, it’s off key

I no longer care if, when I write, the words pour onto the paper in a soggy, jumbled mess

I’m finding myself in these melodies

I’m letting go.

Too often we laugh even as we are sad

Swallow the tears, bit back the rage, move away from the fear

We are afraid to feel

Sometimes

You have to

Ramble

And rant

And rave

And vent

Your way to release

Catharsis.

Road to freedom is never smooth.