Remember the words that the wiseman told you

Treasure the scars that the woodlands gave you

Make them a sign of your might

The cold in the wind and the rain may scald you

But freedom it comes at a price

This might be our moment. Rail line snakes, weaving and growing just before it splits, fractions parting ways to never rejoin. The ball sinks down, resting now comfortably within the orange glow of my second chakra. My gaze drops too, eyes unblinking now fixating on backlit keys. How can we be inflicting so much unnecessary pain. Breath in, ribs expand, hold. Exhale. 

My hands are darker now, too many hours lately in the sun. I've been enjoying it, sans sunburn. When ever I see my hands I think of yours, they are strong, soft, and always warm. You have kind hands. I got a new little plant, I think you'd like him. I made a human friend too! They experienced a past very similar to my own.  They have kind eyes and a soft smile.  We are going to build a fabulous outfit for them to wear to pride, I'm really honored to help. Frejya turned one yesterday, she's growing so fast, bigger than Luna now. We threw a party, nothing too fancy. Catnip bubbles play time followed with top notch wet food dinner and a love filled card to mark the occasion.  It hangs on our banner of important cards. It makes me feel empty. Everyone is so proud of milestones my heart isn't reaching. I've got a diagnoses. As memories are ties to reason, flashes of darkness reach my eyes. I was hurt. Unearthed baggage lost at sea. Another thing I'd never be able to tell you.  I feel you really wanted to be okay with everything. With. Me. And I also feel hurt. Scared. Medicated. Tired.. 

There's beauty in longing and desperation

It means that you've not given up

What would be so wrong about the truth?
Filter free until eyes would read my words. 

So focus the fervor of your frustration

Use it to fly, not to drop 

This is my space, and the poetry shall continue,
truth now covered in glitter.