Songs are like birds in my chest
Unlocked by warmth and laughter,
Bursting free in a fast beat,
Alone and free in the empty sky,
Suddenly I’m breathing.
Poems are like dark molasses
Sickly sweet slowly oozing over my tongue,
Thick in my nostrils, I choke,
Until the words stand on pages,
My mouth tastes like grieving.
Stories are like the spot behind my knees
Where helium gathers,
Makes me run and dance,
Like I have somewhere to run to,
To know where my real home is.