TheCrazyTarantula

I let you peel back my layers like birchbark, It was not a game to me. I showed you my wounds. Where he took his knife and hacked at my self-love and trust in others, and my sense that I was worth anything. Every time the sun and shadows fell unkindly on me and I had to contort in a new shape just to keep living I told you about it. Like the way leaves are shed and spread on the earth, to keep you warm in your winters I gave you things I made with my own blood and love. I let you see my green wood, the places where I am not yet growing, and I promised to take you with me on my sacred journey If you wanted to climb my trunk and hold my br

I want to weave myself into the warmth of a paint brushes soft strands Like settling into a cocoon I wish for a way to slip into the space between the layered paint and papers’ embrace The way one falls into a dream I am sick of stretching myself too thin across these endless days The ones that begin on the sidewalks and expand up, up into the sky, Ending where, I do not know, But there is not enough of me to fill them.