At night, I’m terrified of falling asleep
because I don’t know what horrors are inside.
I may be young, but I can understand them.
I dress in dark colors and wear chains and chokers.
I feel so small in such an enormous universe.
I want to play the part of a human being,
but I also want to become the goddess of the stars.
I’m in love with the rain as it cools on my skin,
the petrichor that follows, and the returning sun,
but my heart spins like a weathervane in a storm.
My mind is a chaotic clatter of voices and sounds.
I am the commander of a thousand soldiers.
I am the brittle stem that carries the dead leaf.
My elegant and long fingers were created to create.
My tongue was pierced and your heart, it will pierce.
I pinch my cheeks so that they may smile wider,
but I am not always happy. I cry so I may cry again.
I am the drawings and writing on painted walls.
I am the thing that’s keeping myself grounded.
I'm a crow waiting for the autumn wind to pass me by.
I'm patient, silent, and still. My feathers ruffle.
I am a feather drifting into a smoldering cauldron.
I know I will die, but I have chosen to enjoy drifting.
At night, I am young and dark and small
and I want to play the part of a human being,
but I have instead become the goddess of the stars.
The rain, petrichor, and sun storm above me.
My army of soldiers is brittle, but elegant and piercing.
I will smile again so that I may cry. I will write.
I will be grounded and the wind will pass me by.
I will be patient, silent, and still above the cauldron.
I know I will die, but I have chosen to enjoy living.