Moths on Edge
I pull a bit of thread and unravel my broken days. My nights aching with fear
and an anguish that has no place to go.
When I leave the windows ajar,
A soft, quiet shimmer — vaporous and lazy.
a lost moth on edge
whispers and flutters inside.
Not light enough to fight the darkness that has collected all the shadows inside me.
But bright enough to let me know shine is here.