I’ve made friends with the dark

I don’t need to resist or shy away

But I no longer feel the pull

The heaviness of the shadows

Whether they be in my mind

Or in the corners of a night-filled room

The chains have disintegrated 

Into the smallest pile of nothingness

Powerless are the demons who hunt

Waging war with the light in my soul

It is mine. And it will be bright.

Anatomy of Writing

These letters are dancing across the page,

and as you read them

I wonder if you’re taking them in

Breathing them into your lungs

digesting them into your bloodstream

or if they’ll simply disappear as you exhale

They were formed in the innermost part of my core

Rose from the dust of my bones

and slithered through my veins

Where my blood ebbs and flows, to and fro

Heart to brain, head to toe

Pen was lifted as words were shifted

The hemispheres of my thinking organ

Carefully crafting the right words

To see you. To feel you. To reach you.