A month after the pills and the ambulance,
after days of delirium and needles and tubes,
after a week spent stripping myself bare,
body and mind and soul,
in the presence of uncounted, unfamiliar
doctors and nurses and counselors,
I am alive,
I am grateful,
I love and am loved,
and I have found hope once more.

For Paul

The sun sets, setting the sky afire with hope’s final, vibrant farewell. Night falls, bringing unending darkness. A branch snaps beneath the cold weight of silence, a perfect echo of my dying heart.

After Midnight, Unrest

I watch your fitful sleep and imagine
reaching into your chest, lifting
the chainmail of anger from around
your tender and tattered heart,
cupping that tired muscle
in my warm hands, unraveling
my atoms, letting them flow over
and into your flesh, knitting closed
the wounds I’ve caused until you feel
only peace.