You Found Me When I Couldn’t Even Find Myself

By

they drop on by
seeking solace,
but what they don’t know
is I have yet to discover
myself

when they come
asking questions,
I can only squirm under their gaze

(is this called stage fright?)

and then there’s you,
you who come

with dried concrete
under your nails,
seeking to rebuild
my delicate glass house.

“I’m working on it”
I say… confidently.

when no one’s looking,
I look over and whisper:
“but it’d be nice
to have some help.”

now there’s not a house,
it’s a goddamn castle
and it’s mine

(but thanks for being there
to always swill the cement)