We were laying in the sun together, like animals do.
You ran your hand through my braided hair while
we read stories about magic, you said that the flowers
of elderberry would make me forget how it felt,
I dreamed of home and the sun came out that day.
We fell asleep again, and the sound of rain started
to fall but we didn't hide. You kept me warm.
On our walk home through the dark, we danced
under the warm streetlight, you didn't let go of
my hand and we were content.
You gave me your baby blanket and teddy bear
to be with my bunny, made me promise I'd be okay,
It was our last good day.
When the stars used to come out,
I always thought the flowers that bloomed
in my yard were for me, something about
magic. I was small when you found me, when they cast me away, broken teeth, wiping sand from my eyes.
You were always by my side after, I'd bandage your stone
knuckles back together and you'd help me up the stairs
as we grew up, you always held my hand, and fiercely,
you'd scare them away from us.
I dreamed of warm light, our hands smeared with purple
nail polish, chalk in your hair, the rain washed it away
a few days later. I was always afraid,
you were never mad about that. Then the background noise
of a hospital light, my jewelry box, the little ballerina inside with all the
We made paper boats and they'd give us
warm milk but wouldn't let me dance
so I'd curl up in your arms as you came up
with constellations to show me.
The cracks in concrete and in my spine were always there.
You knew how to run and taught me to fly with the wings
of a monarch butterfly, and we'd sit under the elderberry tree,
I listened to the way you hummed and the way you felt
when braiding my hair, little flowers everywhere.
I've never let go of the last one you did, a little braid,
I asked what was left of the northern star
to lead you back home one day.
When you left to learn how to fight they hunted me down,
followed my trail once the rain stopped, ruined my hair
and took our teddy bear, ripping out everything by the throat.
By the side of the road, where they threw rocks at me and
kept calling me a strange animal. Bracelet beads falling
over concrete, dragging me by the hair, blood into water
as they pushed me down. And life sounded softer,
welcomed me when the church wouldn't,
and the world feels light.
And while you're somewhere in the desert,
I thought about finding my way home
They held me down and I'll never come up again.
