Who I have become
A maker, A sturdy do-er
Calm and confident and kind

I get up from the ground, gravel rocks falling from dented skin
And offer you the flower I found on the ground

Suzy homemaker with scars on her hands and arms
With old cookbooks and rocks in her pocket

As long as I judge my fellow man
And fear his path
I’ll find myself waking up one day wearing his image

Each year I rummage through my closet
Greens and reds and blacks
I throw things away, deciding that light pink makes my skin look blotchy
I realize that shades of green help highlight the gold in my hair
I get rid of things that fit me too tightly on the arms
Or things full of dryer lint that no longer serve the look I’m going for
As I get rid of some things
I make a plan for how I’m going to replace them

I sit back and admire my my work
Yep, no pink.
Yep, no wrinkly collars.
A new colour scheme for another year

Precarity blinks open its sleepy eye
A reminder of the things in the dark
Death, destruction,
A rug pulled from beneath your feet

One minute
In love and excited for the future
The next
Hand broken from punching the granite counter
A casket lowered into the ground
The smell of your old lovers sweater entwined with a hundred stale lies

Future me is reaching back guiding me closer to her

The dark forest in my mind
Ash falling from the night sky
Pieces of burnt pictures

Large spiders ****** their strong legs into the limbs of the trees
They gnash their teeth
Angry, volatile, desperate

All of the monsters inside are unhealed feelings
The anger, a coping mechanism
A reaction to hurt

Love in comparison is the warm seat in the coffee shop
In a comfortable sweater, wrapped around my waist like a second thought
While I drink the rich deep flavoured coffee
Smiling at you from across the table
The thread between our hearts golden, laid across the table between us
Warm fingers, joy
Cinnamon and milk