If ever you find yourself
surrendering to the darkness,
look to me—

Listen.
I will never claim I can save you,
Lord knows I can't save myself,
but I know, for a second, our
eyes carry a comfort the dark
has no power to put down.

Listen.
There is nothing that can
divide the bloodline that streams
into our hearts when we touch
skin, when we grasp and
piddle at the wind, searching
for a safe breeze to cart us home.

Home.
Fields of lilies, dayflowers, marigolds,
things we thought were silly before.
Look at us now, prancing about
like the couples we made fun of
not so long ago—love was a virtue,
not tangible bliss. We can touch it.
It whispers of springtime.

If ever you find yourself
surrendering to the darkness,
look to me—

I will swear to whomever will
listen that I will never again
be that far behind you.

Dear.
There is always light; it is simply
a matter of opening one's eyes
and finding it.

Fill my lungs with flowers
I'm not used to coughing
but I'd gladly produce for you the seeds
So that you may see.
You can plant them in your
garden of regrets and
I'll keep a few for my own.
Who would have known?
Somethings perceived as good
in reality they were weeds
crawling up my throat.
Perhaps my little garden is comprised
of dandelions and dayflowers and
other things too small
for human adoration.
Maybe I am too too small.
Pluck the petals from my hair,
count and see-
Undoubtedly, she loves me.

Just like yesterday,

they arise from my branches:


lots of dayflowers.