I want to thank the thing that held the muscles at the back of my throat painfully tight every time I have thought of speaking.
Now that I have floated down from that whisper of existence,
Bright humanity can only make me smile.
They have painted so well on the world where I have cast no color,
And I thank anxiety for showing me the genius of extroversion,
To throw a handprint into the universe, to hold it in your hands, to make it—
How to be human without being brave.