Year of Jubilee

I need a year of Jubilee,
Or maybe two, or maybe three
Or it might take four,
Or even more,
To settle in and liberate me,
 
To uncover the big chunks
And move them out,
And hold my horses, and tickle my doubts,
And cool my jets, and loosen that lip
That tends to pout
Or pucker, instead of smile.
 
Then, Someone, please,
Take the screens and soft bristle brushes
And discover the basket of me in the bulrushes,
And let me nurse in the palace until
My personality and my style
Can fully emerge
Without hints of oughts,
Without landmines and scars
From the battles I’ve fought,
Or fear from future pains,
Or pavlov’s bell.
 
But give me a year
Of peace and freedom.
Release my debts, my shoulds,
And, Sweetums,
You’ll have an angel in your arms
And not some devil from hell.
 
-jenn long