The sun begins to shine
again upon the world,
and I'm still here.
I'm still seeing,
still breathing,
still feeling you next to me.
I closed my eyes to
the darkness
last night fearing
that it would be
the last time I'd see you.
It all seems
just too good
to be true,
too perfect
to be real,
all too right
to be mine.
But you're still here,
sighing,
sleeping
sound beside me.
Your heart is still beating
steady from within your chest
beneath my head,
and I know you're still mine
for at least this moment.
How I wish I could freeze time
and stay here
in your arms forever.

The bird song begins earlier than I am prepared to hear it.
The sun has not yet made his entrance
to this side of the world
but I feel light dawning inside me.
My leaves are strewn about,
having landed violently at my feet last night.
My branches are sore,
I rocked and groaned all night long,
and my trunk is weaker --
I am cracked
and missing a few layers --
but my roots,
they go deeper than you could imagine,
and I will not falter.
I may sway,
shed pieces to the storm,
but I will not fall.

Those familiar grumbles
come from somewhere
in a dark corner or my mind.
They come sneaking around
without more of a warning
than a soft cackle.
The laughter
grinds my bones
as if I'm searching
for gears in the car.
The creatures
have been hunting me,
taunting me,
haunting me for years.
They come for me at night,
when I'm most alone.
They know
I cannot be saved then,
they'll have their way with me,
chewing on me,
never to swallow me whole
but just enough
to leave me sore
with the rise of the sun.
I've grown to expect them,
embrace their presence,
because unlike those
who are with me
in the daytime,
the demons
will always be here.

I've broken through
The wall that has surrounded
me.
Not a word
has been written by my hand
since a time so far forgotten.
Overgrowth from disuse
has cluttered my focus,
drying up my ambition
although no sun has shone upon it.
My thoughts became cracked,
dusty with age,
and the webs
became so thick
I couldn't cut them with fire.
But like a maze,
I found a path through.
There were dead ends,
and tricks,
and traps along the way,
but I made
the correct turns to get back
to that place
like a mouse to cheese.
I've found my pen,
and through the ink,
my words will find the world.

I thought the storm had ceased,
passed by me without damage.
I thought we withstood the test,
anchored
in the harbor.
But no,
my ship is rocking,
swaying,
unsteady in the water.
Our smooth ride
has come to an abrupt halt -
each untruth you spew,
throws another wave in our course.
Every break
at the peak of each wave
heaves
the water over my sides,
filling me,
weighing me down,
and I don't know how long I can swim.

A low rumble within my soul,
a flash of light in my eyes,
blinding,
leaving me without a glint
of hope.
Tears,
much hotter than a normal rain.
My body trembles with the fear
of not knowing,
the pain of surprise.
The wind blows within me,
and my hair stands on end.
Fight-or-flight time;
so often I've stood to fight,
only to be the fool in the end.
This time I feel it,
electricity in my legs,
pulsing.
A signal to run,
I can already feel
my feet pounding the concrete
like a hammer,
blowing the sidewalk to pieces
while my toes crunch in my shoes.
I run,
as fast as my body will take me,
far away from the place
where my heart lies
in shambles,
scattered among our ashes.

The feeling of being trapped
is no longer my concern.
Now I find myself lost,
and left far behind
in the dust of those who have pulled ahead.
Fear keeps me stuck here,
and it is that which I have yet to overcome.
Success is always an option,
but failure seems such a guarantee.
It's that familiar chill
of my back pinned,
immobile
against the cold hard surface behind me.
I run my fingertips along the corners
and the cracks
and imperfections
hoping for some escape.
As always
I find myself against the wall
nowhere to run
but head first.