splotchy

Rushes of energy
course through my veins
and pulse restlessly
in my neck and chest.

Bright splotches of red
surface on my skin,
radiating heat
under a microscope
exposing
the fallible, fragile lifeblood
that I often try to hide.

My skin feels too thin,
my vessels too big,
my blood flowing with too much force.

I care.
Deeply.
about most things.

My dad always said I'd be the first person
in human history who dies of
spontaneous combustion.

Passionate
Dramatic
INTENSE

Words to describe me
often with
judgment,
impatience,
or "humorous" dismissal
of my voice,
of ME.

I want others to accept me,
to enjoy me...
to enjoy my splotchy neck
and enormous veins.

But I shock people,
overwhelm them.
And when I see this on their faces,
I feel flooded -
desperate and frantic
to find a way to get us both afloat.

That is where I err -
trying to save others from me.

I wonder what it would be like
to unapologetically let others face me?
To let them be in shock
and to bless my own splotchy neck
even when they don't?

I believe that is what one calls
acceptance and peace.