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I’ve always thought you were like the earth after rain,
dripping, slipping off beaten leaves
strong and steady,  
with light purples gracing,
all around us wrapped up in each other.
You are soft greys filling each moment,
hiding under cedar stairs to hear the thunder voices scream
fighting metal to find the comfort in negative spaces.
You are lightly dancing to beat up records filled with grease
filling me with old spice, and ****** hair gel.
You are clear fall days, falling
keeping us safe from our demons,
who bite and claw, filling the air with their blood.  
You are a burning laptop hiding under the blankets of a movie fort,
the comfort of laughter in dark.  
You are dusty old barns
with sunbeams breaking through in midday,
old worn playgrounds
where small children play.  
You are the empty church,
when others have left
stiff wooden benches
and soft candle rays
bathed in incense and leftover wine.
You are the spring time
changing each day
you are the winter
remaining the same.
You are the flowers sitting outside
striving for sunlight
through the darkest of times
You are the warmth of tea
after the day's hours.  
You are the thoughts in my mind,
the first words spoken in a long time.