“tell me your secret”
I ask the small child within
“how do you find hope?”
she stoops down, picks a dandelion, and blows seeds into the wind. then she smiles and says
“make a wish”
it’s ok
fall to pieces
scream into your pillow
let yourself break
but this time
when you are done
when you find the strength to stand
let the heartache stay on the floor
when I write about you
I feel guilty
as if I am plagiarising
the most exquisite piece of art
trying to repaint a masterpiece
with lines and dots on paper
forgive me
for attempting to replicate
the universe I see in your soul
grief will teach you one of two lessons
how to run from love
or how to run toward it
you choose which lesson you learn
simple is enough
I do not ask the sunrise
to be anything more
why should I expect
so much of myself?