I bury my bones into bed with me,
Slumped, splintered and fissured
My grave will be a place to rest,
But for now,
I will remain in disconnection,
seeking out something more,
In an earth that does not want me,
Like tree’s I span my branches far,
My arms play in movement with the wind,
A spectacle,
With leaves at the beginning of summer,
how they hang and reach for the sun to beam into them,
brittle and bruised I can be,
but by god are my roots deeply embedded in pain,
in growth, in passion, in worship,
for love is all we have left,
My womb screams out for help,
Her death is what emanates through me,
Maybe that is why this pain is so full of ache,
bloody tears as my own eyes bleed,
I bury myself into my bed everynight,
wondering when I can begin forgiving.
fostering a lighter load of torture on my shoulders.