Making it Out.

I appreciate
That you see through me
and you don't spare my feelings
when you say, you could have tried harder
calling me out
bruising my ego
exposed
its hard not to falter in that kind of spotlight
And if we're being honest I think
I'd rather be underestimated
afforded the element of surprise when
excuses fall away, wrapping paper on Christmas morning
It's hard to fight, no straight lines
so I laugh
because I know
my words are wasted on you.
You stood on the lattice of your convictions
and built a house
And I stand at the edge of mine
with a tent on my back
looking in, looking out.
I know you're on top now
But I still like the coal miner in you
writing poems on scraps of paper
coughing up dust
I know what you keep is a reminder from where you came
up, up from the very bottom of the earth
I know that first gasp of air, rays of perfect sunlight
like stepping out of a hospital after a long night
Ah
so fucking sweet. Just making it out.