Time has run through
golden fields of hay
and swam the moss-covered
ponds in the soft amber
light of dawn.

There are shards of
beauty in the
rubble of a broken life.

Those summer days
crawled
like
a

grumpy

tortoise.

Then galloped on by, like
a ******* colt.

I fed on the breast of life,
grew strong, and free.
And now,
those November birds

are

coming for me.

I thought that shattered people couldn't be mended
That they were lost from what was real
But I learned that people don't shatter: they bleed
And bleeding people heal

I was never taught to write a love poem

From a young age I learned how to grieve
I learned how to keep myself on my feet
I learned how to wallow on perilous ground
I learned to stand up when I fell down

I was taught to smile to keep hatred away
I was taught to keep my emotions at bay
I was taught to do everything on my own
I learned to love being alone

I learned to build barriers all around
But I was never taught how to break them down
I learned that if a crush seemed to stay
I needed to to push my feelings away

I never learned to love or to give anything to you
Now I don't even know how to break through

This was for my love but I'll never show him
These strands of sorrow meant to be a love poem