All of My Truths

On occasion, I can breathe control,

Remembering who I was.

It may happen

When the earthquake of my heart

Presses me to see without

An avenue to deflect,

Pushes me over the line where I

Then plunge

Into all of my truths—they catch me. 

Some may be things I want 

To keep asleep,

But when control is guiding my hand

Steady, I can peek at them

A little longer.