My friend once said, with a knowing grin,
As I was on the verge of tears
-after I told him to leave me alone-
How scary giraffes are to him.

How one would trample you
If you accidentally make it mad
While you're riding your bike in Africa.
I blinked once and the pearly white
Of my eyes dried so much,
That my lips broke into a smile...
Wide like the San Andreas,
But I was not at fault.

My job was not to smile...
The more I ignored him, the angrier I got,
The more he spat out words.
He always does. He steps. And steps
Between me and myself
And distracts me from my inner critic
Who speaks to attack,
And takes me in with the tide.
But,

I take it a little easier from there.