First Draft
I sit
made of burlap
filled with sand
an effigy of responsibility
blue eyes like buttons
twinkle with flat cheer
mouth moving mechanically
one hand neatly flat on the tabletop
nodding
saying The Right Things
dying inside
the other hand hidden below
knows the truth
clutching a sharp dagger
waiting for the signal
I smile
a laugh to hide the ripping sound
while the sand spills around my feet
until I am
Empty
by the sea, by the sea, by the beautiful sea 
And from the ashen sand a Phoenix rises. 🙂
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You know, I’ll often end a note about my well-being or even a poem with hope, even if I’m not feeling it. But this one… I just wanted to leave. So honestly, feeling more like the emptied burlap sack than a phoenix, but when that comes, I’ll write about it too!
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