A poem inspired by The Muse of Cold Earth.
Beginning to Breathe
-I whistle as I skip past the graveyard
Centuries watch unmoving, stone,
Eviscerated, shorn to the core
War torn, born, unmourned
Like a blanket in the shiftless night
Whistle with me and hold my hand tight lest
I remember the days I was buried
In SSRIs and the dirt scooped from the valley of the shadow of death
Its shadow is still under my eyes
Revived, but changed, like the world changes, like a cocoon cracks
Into colors in the wind, which doesn’t stay or forget
Repeat, release
Fear, withstand
Inhale, exhale
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