pour yourself against my heart
until the flood gates open–
I am still me.
hold yourself down on my family
when the light seems empty–
I will still be
The girl with a dozen scars
on one heart string alone,
memories too full to count.
I am the Buddha above my nightstand
and the tick marks upon my kitchen door;
I am the thankfulness that more to come
will always seize the day
Towards something greater than myself:
the limitlessness of all, of me–
June 25, 2014