The presence of winter must mean, too
That words also have their Spring

When you get tired
of feeling small
stand up.

When words
Feel like little pieces of you

Ready to make us new again

May peace be with you
And when it is

There are days that come
Where
All I want
Is that wooden rocking chair
And some rest

There are worlds
Behind your eyes

The day will come
When you look in the mirror
And you don’t see
Who the world has told you to be

Words die
Sometimes

I wonder then
About the existence of fiction

We fill shelves with the human experience

Surrendering to our brokenness will, in the grand balance sheet of it all, never leave us wanting.

What of the dreams that sit moth eaten on hangers?

What would you speak?

It’s both easy and scary to imagine the sunshine of what if.

So, darling, if we are resolute of anything
Let it be of this

It is important to remember
To Listen

There is never a time
Now, eons preceding, or whatever earth is left beyond us

For it is only with
The arrival and passing of days
The orbits of the moon and sun
The waxing and waning of tides
That the scars our souls carry
Can ever
Be made whole

Because, as far as I can tell, I think, we're the only thing keeping each other from shipwreck.