Who gets to say how I feel? How I should feel? Who gets to say?

If I meet my pain like a lover in a dark, secret place

and I take her into myself like a knife, cutting deep.

Who is to stop me?

Bring her out! Bring her out so we can meet her!

Bring her out so we can look at her and make our decisions

She is mine and I will keep her locked in my tower. I will gulp her down and soak her in

I will feel her high in the clouds and above the noise

I don’t want to hear what you think of her

That she’s ugly, too big, too small, too quiet, too loud, too dark

She is beautiful to me

Together we have soared to the heights and gone down to the depths of hell

We have met many deaths both big and small

She is my beloved and I am hers.