falling against the coarse rug, I feel the ripples of fear pang against my core

darting around inside of me are the remnants of thoughts

they aren’t random, yet they don’t match up

I try to force them together, but they are proudly unique and specific,

refusing to go where they don’t belong 

 

my fingers are burning and no matter how many times I slam my hands against my body, 

I cannot seem to extinguish my flaming flesh 

my ears are ringing with music

not the type that plays on the radio or is cemented in a record 

it is a sly sound that caresses and stings,

a sound that lingers and lingers and lingers even after you think you have forgotten 

 

I want to succumb to the whirling lights

it would be so much easier

than admitting that I have power 

 

but I have power

I have the power to turn the dissonant sounds in my head into music that soothes

I have the power to turn the dirty air I breathe into clean notes 

I have the power to twist the nasty utterances of a society into a creature capable of evolution, 

a force that connects the lost souls 

 

so whenever I fold into myself,

whenever my screams echo and bounce around inside of my skull,

whenever I want to peel myself apart,

I listen to the music straight from lips and fingers and tongues and feet and hearts and minds 

of the world 

and I am able to find the place where I fit 

and I don’t have to force it,

I only have to accept my power as a being