Sometimes we want community so badly
and we become so worried about making others like us
that we don’t relax into our humanness.
But tomorrow
I want to be weak.
Squishy, like the soul.
Soft, loving, unshielded, unprotected, warm,
unphased if people are cruel to me or not.
Weak.
I wish to recognize that I am not perfect
and not need to appear strong.
I wish to remember that those who don’t try to hide their weaknesses
are strong.
But I’m not doing this because I want to be strong,
I am eager to be weak.
To feel.
To be my squishy self.
To make others uncomfortable
and to be uncomfortable.
I want to be as weak as I was in the beginning of my soul
and as I still always am
under everything.
