/Dear sky, I don't know what to wish for./
I said, as I walked home in the dark
Arms across my stomach for warmth
And the semblance of contact,
And not a soul was around.
I'd not seen your lightning strike eyes yet.
I'd not been pulled into the stars
That live in the lake
Beneath the little bridge where you kissed me
And drowned in the searing cold of doomed love.
I was just new, just then,
Like the little bright green leaves that burst forth from the bare branches
Of a springtime tree.
I was that new and that fragile
And that afraid, of the dusky dark green of late summer.
I knew nobody and nobody knew me,
Just then,
And I was, if not content, comfortably hopeful.
After years of hiding, I was there,
Exposed
In the middle of an empty world late at night,
With the biting cold stars above me
And the streetlights throwing gold shadows on the pavement,
And the lake glinting black and blue beyond those trees
With the little white flowers on them.
And I was naive, but also very lonely,
And I didn't know what to wish for, just then.
I knew I was yearning for something,
Something I couldn't breathe without.
Something close,
Something I hadn't discovered yet
That was just...right...there...
And I showed the sky my bare wrist,
And I said,
/Cut me up, or kiss my pulse.
God, I am ready to be
Alive./*
And the next day,
God
Did both.