is this my home?
spinning ‘round n round
going from high to low
and back ‘round again.

is this that place where a heart feels heard
and shoulders ease?
for far too long the tongue’s been tied
and the shoulders tense

from being left in the dark
because my stories don’t matter.
the voice has been shushed
and pushed into a corner steadily decaying.

do you hear me
as you untie my wrappings?
do you wish to pull out my stories while
uncovering my parts and pieces?

do you turn the lights on
and keep them shining,
to see all of me?
or do you take only what you need?

is this where I belong
or do I hide in the dark
to seek comfort and refuge
from a stranger's company.

i would tell if you asked.
i would say so if only you took the chance.