Inkpaw

this is a letter to myself
when the dark and the cold and the loney 
threaten to overtake your mind
when the hurt and the pain and the longing 
magange to creep their way inside
i dont want you to give in 

i am the cloud spinner
who breathes a great fog through the mountains
with ever breath 
in 
and out
i am the sky shaker
with every mighty clap of my hands 
the heavens give way 
i am the sun tender

I am a child of the pine trees
and ocean waves off the coast of Maine,
the dust stirred up on dirt roads
and the wooden boards beneath my bare feet.

I am a child of blood and bone 
and fireflies on summer nights,

words are hard
i try to make them right
the ones that make sense
the ones that sound pretty
and fall off my tounge with a smile
but
how i feel
doesn't turn into words
its not smooth or clear like the shattered glass 

thoughts 
running 
skipping 
jumping
boinging across my conciseness like ping pong balls
only the word "please"
stays in place 
please 
begging  me
please 
please