by Tyson Higel
Bright Christmas lights
shine on the front of a house,
above the porch and front door
and windows facing north,
but not on the house's sides,
where it's dark and unseen in full,
where it's not been made a scene, at all.
And we, like houses,
don't want to make a scene of ourselves,
don't want to be seen for all we are.
Don't want attention to our uglier walls,
undecorated and scarred, and broken;
don't want to be seen wide open,
all the imperfections we hide.
And so we only shine lights on our facade,
the presentable sides of ourselves;
not the odd walls that hide in the shadows.
And maybe that makes us shallow,
and not three-dimensional;
not seen in full and for what we can fully be.
Let all your lights shine, let out your beauty.
Tyson Higel is a nursing student living in Bellingham, WA. If he's not with patients or studying his coursework, he is, almost certainly, working on his poems and short stories. His poetry has recently appeared in Corridor and The Kings River Review.