I am covered in stones of black with a constant stream of "Throw them off!" in my ear.

To which I sometimes reply, "At least I don't have as much as someone else."

My voice travels deep and low, with wind following in front of it to keep things of value,importance

intellect, emotion,

from leaving it's hiding place, located at the tip of my tongue.

As tall as I am I still can not grab clarity.

Fight fire from passersby with hand grenades even if they have not let heat go yet

they might

and if they do what will i do

my wit falls short,drags low in the face of others

when others can see my face

With all this said

My vanity rivals all

I am my own universe

I am long-winded but no one who bothers to listen seems to mind

My feelings are not sacred but are rarely shared in their entirety

I am a lucky few in that

My legs jump high, the soles of my feet hit the ground fast enough to outrun the demons in my mind.