bring me your anger
your fire-breathing core
bring me your hate
your stolen youth
and bring me your pain
your tired and aching soul
I am the woods where they cannot
find you
I am oak and birch and
warm peeled-back bark
you can crawl behind
I am earthen dens
with walls of damp dirt
I am hollow in the pit
where the hunter cannot see
for bodies to sleep
(there is room inside of me)
I am the desert land
red clay on light-bathed rock
where the snakes lay in heat
ready to strike
(I can keep you warm too)
I am the fractured earth
pulled into canyons endless enough
to swallow them whole
so that they can never reach you
these armies with their sticks and stones
(you will not be broken)
YOU ARE READING
Dysphoria
Poetry"I dreamt I grew roots and sunk into deep earth, Where mud became my skin and dampened grains freckled my surface, I opened my mouth wide for the sprouting branches Leaf-speckled limbs And sunflowers blossomed from my eyes, Sunlight bled in waves, w...
