I step through my home differently
when I’m alone
the demons need somewhere to go
if they’re in my feet or my knees
who’s to say
the most precious things
are crumpled in a closet
I only live in summer
Judge your grief
Judge your worries
Judge your love

If I told you how the words come
placing myself face down
in the warm sand
generous and empty
filled and gone
I could walk away feeling safe
Feeling light
Feeling so open
So when can we go

Because I know
the ghosts are falling
I think they’re melting
and I only dream
of being gentle, well,
and brave