The nights have
been somber around here
they are filled with
apparitions of
longing and worry

So I write poems
with a surgical knife
to cut at the wound
of my sullen cries

I should be stronger
than this
superwoman in reverse

the cobwebs come and
multiply around me
as if I were an
abandoned building
while the shadows have their
own wicked agenda

as I flutter around
like the milquetoast girl
from yesterday

I'm bullied by
quarantined nights
then saved by the morning
Sun of my resurrection