Photo by pshab // Licensed by Creative Commons

If I took my hat off,
Thousands of dandelion seeds would blow away.
Snakes would hiss off into the abyss.
Jumbles of Legos and Tinker toys would clatter to the floor.

If I took my hat off,
Seashells and smooth rocks,
Apple cores and knotted grass,
Chocolate chips and clenched fists,
Would tumble from my pockets.

If I took my hat off,
The city would stop moving,
Thinking they heard a tornado siren.
One thousand voicemails played at the same time,
One million barks and squeaks and tears,
Hesitations and recitations and questions and poems and pleas
All thrumming with the three syllable baseline of my name.

The abyss inside is crowded,
But I don’t know who I would be
If I took off my hat
And let it all go.

Thumbnail courtesy of pshab under Creative Commons