We show up smiling
A carefully woven rug
Thrown over scarred wood
The gauges are deep
The finish has been worn down to the grain
Where we paced, and crawled, and
Dug our nails into the wood
Trying not to get pulled again
Into the nightmare
We live in the space between
The rug and the wood
Suspended by hope
Kept down by the gravity
Of all we survived
What sudden turn of events
Will ground us deeper into the floorboards
Is it a specific cast to the lights
Or a sprinkling of laughter
The wrong kind from the wrong distance in the wrong tone
We dread what it will be
Unable to prepare for what we cannot expect
Except
That we expect it will catch us unawares
We bring our smiles and our safe stories
(We learn the hard way which ones those are)
We show up in brightly colored patterns of acceptability
Beautiful hues of vines and flowers and neat lines
While we hide invisible in
The darkness of the wood
Where we cry alone for all we’ve lost
Trying to sand out the scars
And not let anyone see under the rug
We hide the horror under mirth and song
It’s that time of year
When the ghosts of opportunity haunt us
When the rising stress of perfect food, the best lights, the mostess
Make Halloween seem like angels walking us to the gates of heaven
Maybe we stay home this time
Maybe we are too quiet and reflective
Maybe we can’t articulate why
You don’t really want to know
Maybe we leave early
Maybe we drift away without saying good-bye
It’s not for lack of love or longing or community feeling
Sometimes it’s just too much hiding for too long
And one more person we don’t want to have to explain to
And to escape from the pressure to be like everybody else
And to cocoon and hibernate
In a cave, in the dark, under a blanket
With a good book and a hot cocoa
To visit a place where we can show up whole
And dark, and imperfect, and honestly
Now you see us
Now you don’t
