speak softly

doe eyed; brand new

the glass shattered,
but i swore it was the snowfall.

you know some things stay the same,
and others drastically change.
i wish i could claim myself as innocent,
but i dislodged several bricks to get here.

and somehow,
i believed her when she stood in front of me.
somehow,
her eyes bore into mine like a direct flame.
and i knew-
just by the warmth of that room-
she meant it.

i suppose i spent so long saving face,
i forgot to save my own.
i suppose the gritty grip of grief would cloud my eyes,
and i'd forget to hiccup-
forget to expand my diaphragm without a thought.

i know she curses me.
i know every snowfall before that moment seemed fabricated.
i know she has burned my sweater,
and emptied her drawer of the rotten clay figures i made her.

and that may haunt me for awhile.
i may steep in the shame,
and wonder what i could have done to stop myself from the snowball effect.

but change is only built for the present.
and i can only think of yesterday's events as opposed to yester-month's.
i can only think of the eyes that lured me out of my sleep-like state,
and told me i had an honest heart.
lies are fertilized in fear,
after all.
and truth-
is a harder hill to grow a pasture on.

but i've renewed myself for the 6th time.
and there will likely be a 7th, and an 8th.
and my feet are certainly unsteady in the snow,
but what can you expect from a fool-

that's dressed in a newborn fawn's glow?