time
was a
slow
drip
flock of heavy-
winged things
caged in my chest
made every inhale
weigh like thousands
hands were unsteadier than this—
hard to believe—it was
hard to believe, harder still
to carry anything
more than myself most days
& the story wasn’t picture-book
no answer landed in my lap
until it did
& i say that magic dawned
a blueberry moon in a pink sky
but it was just music, a song
that stuck a new name in my mouth
letters rolled off my tongue
& the cage rattled
all those wings kicked up
more than dust
saw a smaller me
inside of everything, a hurricane
of dirt & starlight—
the pieces weren’t all together
but the shape was there
& i finally had something to call it
gave it to a boy i thought i loved
& he shouted it across crowded rooms
& of course i fluttered
all feather-tremble & clang
i liked how it was the only way he knew me
told it to a girl who loved me
more than i knew how to ask for
& she sent it, caps-locked, across space
said it even when i wasn’t in the room
& it chorused around her family’s dinner table
& when i heard it echoed back
when it wrapped around me
& all the space i was trying to fill
i swear
i flew
Finch Greene (they/she) is a poet from the new york city area. they are a virgo, a cat mom, and very, very tired. you can probably find them reading smutty fanfic or painting their nails.
Comentários