I'm stepping up and looking around. Ignorant for the idea of me, less evolved then I suppose I claim to be. Learning every step of the way, holding to the thought of it all. Usually a doll sitting on a shelf, going through the movements. Carefully trained maneuvers, panicked steps, loose lips, and dancing to the beat. Of this heart beating and bleeding in my chest. Suppose sometimes def to the rhythm of the music and noise around. New to being me, new to the world I claim as mine, praying I find some solace in the things and people I hold dear. Reaching out and finding myself. Looking within and finding the same face I saw when I was 17. I lost a part of myself. That part of my heart is closed down. Under construction. No one can touch, no one can see, feeling anything here is not permitted. I'm exactly where I am supposed to be but some how out of touch. Opening the other parts of my heart to new things, hoping its not damaged. Irrecoverable. That can't happen. Don't want to close that god damn door. Want to keep it open. To the things and feelings I could never hope to imagine could happen. The things I don't want to dream up for myself. The things that are so much sweeter unexpected. I'm going to stop myself from chiming in now. What a glamorous caricature.