Rescuer

It is easy to call,

come back,

you have unlocked the door

of my cell, but there are more

doors, and I fear 

imprisonment 

I am afraid of

failing in ways that 

I have yet to imagine 

I am afraid of being misunderstood

of not finding a common language 

and all this because one time 

someone came to my rescue

having someone listen to you 

is a perilous tradition

when you must be whole in yourself

the desire to be heard 

wakes ravenous enough

that I might bite into the flesh of memory 

to fill the hollow of my heart

but it is a false promise

like wine or cocaine 

more will never be more

it is only in giving that we may

fill ourselves again and so

I loose my arrows 

already burning with words

and hope they fall 

into the hands of friends

who are in need of fire.