The places that I’ve grown up in

Have informed me of who I am

The tides of island waters

Have shaped me like the sand

I grew up like the skinny palms

My skin kissed by the sun

Birds of paradise greeted my window

And everywhere did I run

I’ve spent some time in humid suburbs

More than I’d like to admit

But it’s the times spent in nearby mountain creeks

To my memory, I do commit

The places that I’ve grown up in,

I have shaped them too

I took the oceans and the sands

The mountains and the little woodlands

And to my heart, I did imbue

I wonder then

Many have as well

What our purpose

In this world

May be

And yet

These wonders,

I wonder

Do they occur

To the common salamander

As she rests

Betwixt the underside

Of a rotting log

And the mossy ground?

No,

I don’t think they do.

So then,

Just as she - the tiny and color splotched salamander, does

Prancing her joyful dance on the forest floor after each fresh rain

Digging her soft fingers into the moistened ground for grubs

Migrating from the water and wiggling to the forest and then back again

All the while these wonders occur outside her musings

Just as she,

So too will I

I am that which moves in the night.

I am the dark, yet I am the light.

I walk through the world with power and ease.

Never will I not be felt, never will I cease.

I do not preach lies with wisdom and mirth.

Be who you are and act what you’re worth.

Hell is not what you have heard.

It is not a place and not a word.

Hell is inside the weak and broken.

Hell is the one who lives unspoken.

We are not frail, we will not give in,

To the rule of others and their own sin.

Fight for yourself, live as you desire.

Because Hell is in you and you are the fire.

Indeed, truly all I need

Is but a simple kiss.

My trajectory,

My soul,

Would most surely

Come skidding to a halt.

For her, I do not need to think,

My affection

My love,

Becomes second nature.

To what ends would I not go,

To present her happiness abundant?

None come to mind.

For you,

I would be bold.

A kiss,

I wish to impart.

Linger but a moment more,

And I am yours.

As I hold you in my hand

Blood drips from your nose

With each gasp you take

You lie in wait

Then suddenly a tremor, a surge, a pounce

And to your side you flop

The concrete is growing colder now

But I quickly try and scoop your jittering limbs back onto my palm

And stroke you as gentle as I can manage

You remind me of my younger years

And I'm sorrowed seeing you now

Bereft of your own

Rest in the north field

I hope your night is warmer

With the cloth and leaves I bundled around you

Whisking you back to the summer days

When you were born

What Am I Doing

If Not Wasting Away

Each And Every

Single Day

But It Is Through

The Little Things

That I Will

Endure