home

and you get home, and

you cry and you cry

and you cry

until flowers spurt

from your eyes

and your delicate

skin becomes older

and tougher

and more wise—

and it seems to

start saying

      ‘ be kind,

be lovely    

          to yourself’

and the black

starts to turn to gold

        and the sadness fades

 and the bruises

stop showing up

   and you’re no longer gone,

you’re finally home.