Maybe There Are Too Many Tonights To Choose From

Tonight maybe I’ll dress in blue and height
and brown waves that tells me I’m not alone.
Tonight maybe these hands will stutter galaxies
hide gullies of petrified somethings,
because they no longer know how to escape time
that deems them little more than age lines.
Tonight maybe I’ll smile,
elastic and trial-cornered.
Tonight maybe I’ll lie
and ‘alright’ will slip off my tongue like a whistle,
warbling on the end
sounding beautiful even when the ugly
sits between the vowels and mocks.

Maybe it’s me its laughing at
or maybe it’s you
or maybe is a maybe that’s the tilting of a scale
I no longer know how to read.

Tonight maybe I’ll lite my lungs with lightening
feel it spread to my heart
to the outgoing oxygen in my blood
and race I-can’t-do-this, I-can’t-do-this
with the locusts nesting on my naval.
I’m pretty sure they’ve turned carnivorous
devouring the butterflies making homes in my stomach
leaving only veins of fear,
empty air for future fights.

Tonight maybe these feet will run again
searching miles and glass panes,
bolted doors tired of greeting wanderers
and camp beneath bridges made of stars.

Tonight maybe I’ll stop
stop fluttering
stop wanting
stop running
stop telling myself strong means standing alone.
Tonight maybe my perfume will be Frost
lines breaking and hinging around my breath
circling my neck in an attempt to catch your gaze,
and mask the smell of darkness all twisted beneath my skin
behind the song rising from the ozone
left grazing on what’s still remaining of my lungs.
Tonight maybe I’m unashamed.
Tonight maybe the moon will be a ‘yes’
that darkness has its own magic
and switchbacks make the muscles stronger.

Tonight maybe I’ll be openly, brutally honest.
Tonight maybe I’ll be unequivocally, unapologetically me.
Tonight, maybe, hopefully…
can I meet unequivocally, unapologetically, openly, brutally honest
you?