breathing flowers in, after dawn.
simple words that get stuck in my throat, for days.
moments in mid-afternoon that bring tears to my eyes.
sunsets waiting on the horizon, always with a promise.
a mirror that refuses to show what lies beneath the surface.
seasons that rattle through my chest, calling me to remember.
blisters that heal and become callouses, rough evidence of pain.
a heart that breaks in its own small way each time you turn a page.
the constant digging for my soul that wears my fingers to the quick.
a silver necklace that says hope, left broken on the dresser.
making molds of the moon to keep in a glass jar.
standing in the dark, listening for sunrise.
a song that whispers even as i sleep.
threading words on needles and pricking my finger.
that one drop of blood, there, on the corner
of the page.