I am made of the night.
Shadows playing in the hollow space
below stars dancing in dead eyes.
I am made of winters biting edge.
Bitter and fragile to the touch.
Ice clinging to fingertips.
Dangerous and frightening.
I am made of words.
Snaking around thoughts.
Twisting meanings to a dark heart’s desire.
I am made of hope.
Burdened on broken backs.
Placed in cracked and trembling hands.
Why do you still stay?