LUCES

It’s not that I can’t express it;
I don’t want to.
Silence is a hidden cove.
A port of solace.
A fortress no one else may enter.

I’ve become my own haven.

Forced into myself,
I wandered through
my mind’s thorns
until at a river.
Glistening grey,
cool on my toes,
I scooped up a cup
and sprinkled it around,
continuing to slowly wander about
as I washed my scraped-up skin.

And as time crept on,
grass grew.
Flowers bloomed
and brightened the thorns,
making them beautiful.

Making them a place I could lay forever.