i expect to bleed
when i am cut open
and hurting
i assume the position
i anticipate the agony
i invite it in
like an old friend
i’ve taught myself to
get up and go
uproot myself when i feel
like i am rotting
and parched
when home doesn’t feel
like home
and love feels like a stab wound
that won’t ever clot
I understand
I repeat it over and over
Until my breathing gets slower
And my vision goes black
and i resort to being a
hemophiliac
i expect to bleed
when i feel anything at all
having a body as delicate
as a wilted flower
has never been easy
for someone who refuses to
drive slowly
or love carefully
I’ve morphed into a tree
Taking hundreds of years to grow
Blooming and wilting
In silence and stillness
Learning to accept that it is here that I am
And here that my body will stay
And it will always be that way
I was born to feel lost
Light years from home
to discover what it means to hurt,
to love,
to allow,
to trust that when i’ve felt it all
ill return to my home in the stars