My fingers touched something tonight;
it wasn’t air, no no.
A candy heart wrapped in a tangle of my
my mind,
my soul.

Everything turned to gold,
the day I had my say,
six years ago with April running into May.
Makes sugar taste like stone.
Makes a feather a ball of hail.
Makes my bones turn into rods
that spear your eyes and make you cry.
Cry for me.

I see everything,
The everything that was nothing in my eyes before;
marshmellows in pastel pink dresses, blocks of chocolate for the family,
balls from the gum machine.
Sticky fingers from long liquorice laces,
As long as the hair that fell out and never came back,
As long as my hollow face would greet Mom,
As long as the silence at the dinner table,
As long as the line of mascara tears; both mine and yours;

As long as the
stretched shadows that tug at my feet each night and tell me it’s okay to
follow them.

(Image via Josephine Bradley Scott)