I don't want to stay
On autopilot anymore
I wanna go home with a
Bouquet of wild flowers
Cook your favorite meal
And dance with you to
A Chet Baker song on
Our balcony by the
Light of the stars

sky’s tear softly falls,
cradled in the leaf’s embrace—
whispers of the dawn.

breath of quiet earth,
awakes in the morning light,
life stirs, tenderly.

Crescent moon, a scythe,
cutting through the darkest nights.
I exhale. Relief.

.
put us down to slumber’s deep
pay no mind to keepers’ keep
afford no mercy as takers creep
shed not tears for the night’s unsleep
.

'We are the daughters of men who warned us about the news, and the missing girls on milk cartons and the sharp edge of the world.
They begged us to be careful, to be safe, and then told our brothers to go out and play.'