I confess to being proud of shoulder like the red-winged blackbird, gentle of heartĀ like the coconut fruit, with a brimfulĀ mind like the geode rock, swarming with gemsĀ and journeys and jolts of well-lived life, lifeĀ examined until it broke, the colorĀ exposed and ossified in the harsh light.Ā I confess to possessing a swan songĀ for a heartbeat, a seashell for a voice,Ā and dark eyes that gaze like a timid knock.Ā I confess to loving love like hemlock and chasing death like an overgrown weed.Ā I confess to living like a liquidĀ moon, too blue to drink, too far gone to hear its name called past the atmosphere.Ā Ā
An empty apology
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Lizzy Burnam š 