Rolling Dice

Tell me a story.
Give me your dreams.
I want to know how you got here.
I need to know how you became what you are.
What's inside you? I want to see.

Weave your hopes and your pains.
Make a quilt.
It's patched with insecurities and fear;
tightly threaded with obscurity and selfishness.
Let's use it as shelter.
You protect yourself with it.
I want to borrow it.
Like you, I want to use it to distance everyone away.
I don't want anyone to know me either.

I'm not a gambler -- the risk is too great.
The die roll but never stop.
What are the chances of being a high-roller?
Per my history they're slim to none; I will lose it all.
I already have.
Decades ago it happened.
Since then, I've never been able to win again.

The die always roll a blank.
Broken dice. Broken spirit. Broken dreams.
Gambling is a risk. Everything is lost.
Don't gamble unless you can afford to lose.
It's a recession. I can't afford to play.

I don't possess anything of value.
What can I offer?
I have no barter, no high stakes.
I only have what you see.
I can only offer what I am.

The die roll.
I wonder when and where they will stop.