I buried my head.
I said,
what I always,
held back,
what I carried,
and I felt my cheeks
wet,
but I,
loved
the sorrow.
It reminded me of her.
It reminded me,
of a brick floor, speckled with blood, an arm like a map, traced with scars,
a drowned out cry,
but I,
loved
the sorrow.
It reminded me,
of a will
to survive,
nights that seemed to be,
my last,
In my youth,
I,
she,
was unplanned.
In my palate,
the taste of bravery,
and I sang,
in barefoot feet.
I asked for death.
