With spirit ablaze,
To tread, where everyone conspire
My truth, a flame held higher,
Yet branded still a liar.
This path, where doubts transpire,
To reach what hearts desire.
As in ages of old time's fire,
Worth on the pyre, a maiden's trial dire.
The heart's own fire, just water to the pyre,
Yet the world deems us of less significance,
Not much of a crier if you keep your distance,
We've never needed rescue, if the problem wasn't you.

Even in darkness there is still the moon.
Even when something is gone there's still our memory.
Unless we forget.

when I was six,
I always asked my mom
to check under my bed
she'd smile, tuck me in
and say, “it's all in your head”

the monster—in my mind
hid in the shadows
and kept me awake
left me with an uneasy feeling
I just can't seem to shake

but when I grew up
I didn't fear monsters
not anymore
so I got on my knees
and laid my head on the floor

the monster stared back at me
its eyes colored crimson
but they were meek
not scary, not daunting
just a little weak

it gently reached out to me
with slender fingers
sharp claws in its end
it didn't feel like a foe
but almost like a friend

I found comfort
within the darkness
made peace with the unknown
the monster—wasn't so much of a monster
on the days I felt all alone