1680

Sometimes with the Heart
Seldom with the Soul
Scarcer once with the Might
Few—love at all.

The core of your
true self is never
lost nor turned to
ashes and dust.
Believe in so
because it's a must
for you to trust in
the core of your self
and crawl out from
under that crustacean
shell you've been hiding
in as to protect you from
one's own hell* ~

a warm dawning sun
rises slow on hazy horizons
with winds wildly
blowing
down endless
interconnected currents
we wake up
to birds singing
timeless songs of morning
and our forgotten past
leaves us hanging
like willows weeping
in the rain

His love
is the winter  
solstice, mounting  
the top of her world
where  
her love  
is the summer  
equinox, embracing  
the basis  
of his

You may not have been birthed in the soil,
and granted,
you will not blossom
when spring melts winters wake
but inside of you
grows a thousand gardens
full of exploding stars.
You are of the earth
and your ashes
have been constructed with stardust,
and set free with the wind.
So you may not have a pretty face,
and your body may hold stories
of too many moonless nights alone.
But if you reach inside,
you will find a forest
for a ribcage
and a restless ocean heart.
So don't ever let anyone tell you
you are nothing.
You are a galaxy
holding a million different planets,
and my dear,
that is not nothing.

You never feel like you're being used until they stop.