No more worries

I won't put all my worries behind no more.
No!
I will cut them into fine pieces.
And wear them. Tight. All day long.

I will not pretend to be strong.
Or act like i have never done wrong.
No more hide -and -cry with these wounds.
They need air to heal.

I will sing these worries... and eat them... and share them.
Because... my soul is a bag of tricks.

I am not addle brained.
Neither am i bucking the wrong horse.
I am a star fish.
Trying to swim against the current.
Trying to bare my breast.

When they crack jokes about me.
I will laugh with them.
Even louder.
Except it's about my mother.
Then... Bottles on hands festival.