forty years
23/02/26
inspired by V.E. Schwab's novel, Bury Our Bones In the Midnight Soil, which is about rage, grief and toxic lesbians. Very good book.
I was in the process of grieving youth I lost to trauma and undiagnosed neurodivergence, and wrestling with feelings of difference.
I always think there are two roads forward with trauma - act out your hurt onto the world, or claw for a better tomorrow. I have a strong bias for the latter.
bury my bones not in the midnight soil
let my bones not persist in the gloom
from which they were born
let them sprout in the sun
catch her rays on new petals delicate
and risk scorching
and if the daisies make no room in their pastures
i will uproot myself
take my raw nerves in tender hands
and forge a new trail
as those who came before
to meadows
where the light has long waited
to shine through me