a truth

listen to the sound that the bones make when they rattle the cage.
it's like we're trying to break free from nothing.
i feel like the air has condensed and collated my lungs.
i can't get it out, for certain; i can't burn the fire.
but one thing has been clearer now than ever: my shadow has been brightened.

someone, not to say a thing, really, has obliged me to.
i washed it clean with bleach.
 hung it out to dry.
it worked, i guess.
now when people look at me they see the darkness underneath my feet.

now the truth has been given out
like pamphlets out the sunny streets
and we choose to let it fly in the wind
so as not to see the engulfing of someone else's rage