i used to come home and cry and shake and hang my head like i had fainted
i used to see open fields and say
“it’s just grass.”
but you know i don’t mean that
cause i am moist from the rainfall
that you cleansed my ash heart with
and now the snow looks like a playful
samoyed dog
running with a purpose stronger
than a passion
leaping and bounding
i touch the heavy air with the palm of my sweaty hands
i dig up your voice from an egyptian tomb
dance in the azure illumination
becoming any creature or being i wanna be
shapeshifting into someone
more pleasurable
amounting to everything since you touched me
you are more than someone who gave me life again after these painful and obedient years
you are an angel in the shadows
in the bloodthirsty hunger of the night
stretching your hand to reach a small body who can’t seem to stop suffering
and even as i direct these poems to you
you can’t even listen in
unless you stumble upon some girl who tries to dream in a world where that is less
likely to
come true
than a physic prophecy
making the pages bleed with my admiration
of the way you cross your fingers
and comfort me during danger
i am lost but around you i am found
and i am starting to think it’s not a coincidence now