[cagepoems]

A heart made of stone

Scorched earth, no sun to be seen.

And yet you grow here.

[cagepoems]

Walking the same streets.

My neck hurts,

Always looking down

For bumps in the road

(Whether they are there or not.)

-

She stumbles, stumbles, stumbles

Because there is so much to see,

And none of it is at her feet

(Yet.)

[cagepoems]

We are what we eat,

And I am still looking

For that which poisoned me.

[cagepoems]

Moss grows up my legs,

And I can’t tell

If it is holding me back,

Coaxing me to take root,

Or if there is any difference

Between the two.

[cagepoems]

I turn out your pockets

Full of wilting flowers,

And I am gladly one of them.

Press and preserve me

In your favorite book,

And smell sunlight

When you turn the pages.

Let this never end.