this year my scars spread like wild roots, scraping along my bones and sometimes knuckling through  ​my mane turned an old mirror grey but I’m no horse, I’m a useless pony interventionist friends with red lips making shapes​ through the…

This year my scars spread like wild roots scraping bone and sometimes knuckling through my mane a mirrorish grey Interventionist friends red lips making shapes but not a word sinking in too much of everything, even advice

years months days hours wide eyed and wet in the middle flooding the grass with grim reaped tears and teenage girl harmonies down the farm wet shuddering despair full to the ear’s brim every minor chord of gutting regret   struck…

Crushing razors To a silver paste Suck it up Slide Thud Shudder Purr Back to numb Returning home No longer sore No longer raw No shore No end To this sawing Carpet ride God the beauty The beauty god? Is…