I am not a liability.  

I know the crests of my own wave,  

anchored to the earth,  

on my knees,  

salvation.

 

Please trust in the current  

carrying you along.  

Trust in the curve  

of supple skin,  

housing your soul  

like a lush velvet curtain.

 

You are so small now.  

Let the earth hold you.  

Set aside that pain.  

Don’t let it train you to be too safe.  

Trust you will sow the seeds.  

Let them breathe.

 

I cannot deny the sharp  

little deaths—  

the things that grow  

like mold,  

wither in the warm light  

of my natural glow.

 

My naked tender soul  

brims just under the surface  

of crepe-thin pragmatism,  

and it sings and shimmers  

with the promise  

of springtime on a pair of  

pursed lips.

 

So with that, you must know—  

being tamed into submission  

and cracking wide open  

can both lead to a place  

haunted by broken apparitions  

that do not belong to you.

 

From my knees to my feet,  

my heavy aching heart  

feather-light.