You open yourself up

as a tin can of beans.

with a dull knife

purchased on a YouTube advisory channel.

Hit the top with a punch

by its very border.

Integrity of the seal gives way.

Rotate slowly at precise increments,

piercing through

more and more of a curling metal.

Holding your grip tight,

keeping the sharp lines away,

while staying satisfyingly close

to the impending danger.

At last,

the lid is lifted,

content visible to the outside world.

You feed yourself first,

then the others.

With the stories of your life

never told before.

Comes

temporarily relieve.

Nods and speeches of support.

The custom-shaped balloons

and post cards

with personalized inscriptions.

But the feeling you have

is not IT.

Not the one promised.

Definitely,

not what you fancied.

The feeling

is that of betrayal.

as if it were you

who deceived yourself.

And then,

everybody is gone,

fed up with your stories

for the time being.

Resolution is nowhere near.

At least,

you think to yourself,

there’s no need to start off

this long,

debilitating grind of a journey

on an empty stomach.