Tonight I wish I could paint.  I don’t even have supplies.
Even still, I wouldn’t know how to capture this vision.

I am standing, naked, vulnerable,
holding my pieces, trying to cover myself.
My skin is peeling open, my star bits are showing through.

My whole life I have felt like I didn’t belong here.

My weird starlight and strangeness
trying to peek out of my cracks,
my costume not holding at the seems,
the pieces sliding open through my fingers.
I am frantically trying to cover myself up…
and star dust is floating out…
exposed naked on stage.
Most people don’t notice at all.
Some are alarmed.  They are afraid of me.
What is wrong with me?

I am raw, tender,
tears softly rolling down my face, dripping off my chin,
into these new openings.
I’m standing here quivering, holding all these pieces,
like a broken gift.