(sometimes, I like to pretend that I am pretty tough.)

I will never forget the sincere shock in your eyes
when you saw through my charade
when your hand stopped on my shoulder
and I
blushed.
                                  

(an unlikely sanctuary.)

I have come to the conclusion
that the key to life
is knowing the difference
between
the kind of pain that requires
silence, 
solitude, 
locked doors,
and the kind that can be cured
by heavy metal,
hot pink running crops,
and the sound of your own heavy breathing.