Shadows

A Poem

The light in the hallway is getting tired of holding its breath
Waiting for you to believe the door is open
You’re spending your life counting the silver in your pockets
Certain every hello carries a hidden tax
A debt you haven’t paid yet…

We treat our hearts like vending machines
Push a button, get a snack
A song
A version of ourselves that fits neatly into a palm
Practicing thank yous that sound like receipts
Dinner invitations feel like subpoenas

You can’t see the gravity within a room
These people aren’t here to warm their hands on your usefulness
They’re standing around the fireplace
Not wanting your resume
But the way your laughter sounds like a secret the universe finally freed

So stop auditioning for a role you won fairly
Write down the names of your ghosts until the ink becomes blood again
Stop documenting mistakes and map the places where joy still has a pulse
Sit with your Self at the bench by the water
Don’t bring a fancy costume, bring your unpainted face
Let your bones remember that they were once stardust
Movement is the only way to shake the shoulds off your shoulders

The only thing worth wearing is the truth
Even if there are holes in the elbows

Don’t check your reputation at the door
Your name is only a cage when other people build the bars
You are NOT a list of accomplishments or series of respectful (?) nods
You are the wild and uncurated thump in the middle of your chest

The List is a myth
No rope can separate the worthy from the broken
We are all broken
The light comes through the cracks because it has nowhere else to go

Invitations are not invoices
They are love letters written in the present tense
Read them
And arrive