the best and worst days--
the cold air that steals october away
the leaves on the ground
getting swallowed up by the earth.
spring's first song. that old bluebird
that never left for winter.
the mountains we have crossed
and built.
my mind, filled with dark things,
things that spill out and cover my words.
years before you.
when love was a war that you don't come back from--
i still carry the stones that were placed on my eyes.
washed up on the riverbed,
i pushed the water from my lungs,
and pulled myself up onto brittle bones.

a warrior,
right as rain, the sun rising on the first day of summer.
my eyes formed of light, what no one can steal.
the world has worn against me,
some days i forget the sharp edges, and
so i love.
i cry, and i speak, and i show you
every part. until it hurts.
i search for bricks and stones and
anything
to keep me safe. locked away,
where light cannot even reach me--
where the black night grows so big,
so heavy,
that your eyes, the sun, are nowhere to be seen.