NERVOUS BONES

I have not always known the super power of waking up without worry

I have these nervous bones and poem lungs

that always seem to fall short of a deep breath

My fingers are sore from stretching them so wide, holding them open

to catch opinions of others, and hide them away

before anyone else can see
I run out of hands before I can count the times I have taken 10 selfies before I find one to post
I wish I could have all of those back

I would wallpaper them across the room

Make a museum of the times I decided I was not enough
I would title every photo
And invite everyone in

To show them the art

That I have found in being seen