i'm sitting on a purple bus, swaying back and forth and
didn't my mother used to rock me to sleep like this?
i'm going back to a dorm room with a twin-sized bed and,
at the age of five, wasn't my bed this small?
because you see, things change but not really.
the parts of our past just fall into different molds
and take on new purposes.
they run underneath every aspect of our lives,
containing bones and bruises and memories,
like catacombs resting in our corpus callosum.
you'll recognize the feeling like
it's from a different lifetime, a different reality.
but it's yours, it always has been.

I think my demons are just my own
Too revolting for you to be shown,
Yet in the mirror their twins play,
In you, in exactly the same way.

i do not sing the storm. i do not sing rage, wrath
the lightning bolt, the scream. Despair i do not sing
i do not sing struggle–revenge poisonous blast–
the hurricane, the quake that tears the city of peace

i do not sing no border. i do not sing no flag
i do not sing no warrior but she that fights all fear
Poverty & sickness-night, the blade, the club, the trap
blows, wounds, cries, lies, bursts & war-blood i do not sing

i do not sing despise for any thing or being
i do not praise no richness no governors, no kings
From all this flower-garden i pick one single rose:
creation is just dew upon the rose of love

i celebrate one flame. i only sing one blues:
the flame of endless loving with you & only you

i once said you were like daises in a field,
dotting through my history.
but honey, you're the whole forest.
you're the shade and the sun,
the moonlight and rippling waters.
speckles on leaves and the wind that carries birds.
it's been dark lately but just know,
if we don't make it out of this forest fire,
at least we'll be ash together.

it's interesting, the colors the rain chooses to paint with.
evergreen and mulch brown.
bursts of white and grey.
black boots, black polish.
a winding staircase lined by glossy red bricks.
it transports me back to when
silk gowns and dusty books sat on shelves too.
i just don't think my heart is in it.

if one day, i get a love
half as bold and sweet
as the classics,
i will think i have won.
i would lose every loss again (and again)
just to keep this.

the turning of a key in the lock.
twinkle and movement of metal on metal.
it's been four days now
and i feel like the ugly butterfly
in the garden that no one wants to hold
or chase after.
i'm wrapped in a chrysalis,
transformation taking place everywhere i look.
so let's hope i come out brighter and more beautiful
than ever.