A Study of Trees

once my light brought critters to the door⠀
knocking at my entrances like moths ⠀
desperate to escape the night ⠀
& tuck into the warmth of me⠀
as if my brightness was for sale⠀

split voices in my head⠀
torn seams of a tattered book⠀
the space between girlhood and now⠀
swallowing whole discarded daydreams, making space⠀

in blank spaces⠀
a fractured soul drawing lines between the stars ⠀
bearing forth a picture where once was chaos⠀
new hearts crawling from the muddy thickness ⠀
of the girl before ⠀

now, ensconced ⠀
in curves and memories and the weight of the air, ⠀
skipping mirrors, letting coffee turn cold, ⠀
and always turning out the porch light. ⠀
moth-free, we are, and full.