Spilled

Just exactly how, when,

and how much we allow

the fire burning inside us

to be revealed to the world

is different for everyone.

We can launch it with rage,

and hurl shallow expletives

like live hand grenades,

seeking to escape its flame

by finding someone else to blame.

Or we can bury it deep within,

covering it with masks or chemicals,

ashamed to lay our claim.

Or we can find an appropriate outlet,

channeling our passion

into something therapeutic,

if not cathartic.

And then there are those of us

whose prescription seems to be

the dangerous work of shaping

thought, emotion, and meaning

with the elemental blocks of words.

When your blood is the color

of ink, who's to say exactly

which you're spilling,

and how much is too much

or how little is not enough?

© 2014 Todd Jenkins