be gentle.

be gentle with yourself. with your grief. with your loneliness. with your heartache.

coddle it. kiss it. lul it to sleep. let it suckle the tears from your eyes. allow it to grow. to swell. to take over.

find a place to set it down. walk away from it. look back. feel bad for leaving it behind. keep on.

keep on crying. keep on laughing. keep your heart steady—

one day you’ll dance at its beat. find your feet leading you back to me.

open your eyes. adjust them to the dark room that you can’t find your way out of.

the heart sees what the eyes cannot—

that you are gone and i am left.

against the odds, you search for her.

the light filters through her soul like something holy and in quiet awe you found salvation in the form of a woman—sacred and sinful. 

she comes with redemption and forgiveness; she licks the wounds clean.

you are resurrected and exiled into her eternal light.

you meant to take, but she gave. not of her body—but of her mercy. and now you kneel not out of devotion, but out of disbelief. 

she lets you touch heaven with dirty hands. lets you whisper lies against her skin, just to hear them break inside your mouth.

she unmade you with a look, rewrote you

with her breath. she is the serpent and the scripture, the goddess who knew you’d kneel—

not for worship, but for penance.

and still, she opened the gates. now you spend your days trying to be the man she saw inside your ruin.

you wanted to see what it feels like to be forgiven by someone who could have destroyed you.

i wept so loudly,

so ferociously,

that the god’s pitied me,

they exalted me into the sea of sorrow;

where my tears kept the arc of our memories afloat,

where the ache in my shoulders of the heavy burdens i bare can be put down—just for a moment. 

it is here where i pluck the thorns from your brows of the crown you wear, 

where our sins combined are no longer accounted for, completely absolved, abolished,

anointed by the grace and mercy of your own wounded flesh—

together we carried this cross,

bound by everlasting love and vengeance,

you took revenge into your own hands,

with the nails life gave you.

should you ever leave,

i will deny myself of love,

i will barricade my heart behind barbed wire,

i will sew my eyes shut until i see you again.

i will whisper your name into the night until the stars remember how to shine.

i will carry your laughter in my bones,

a haunting melody i can’t unlearn.

should you ever leave,

i will count the days in shadows and sighs,

i will trace your absence like a fragile scar.

but even then, my heart will keep time

with the echo of yours, wherever you are.

you ever look at indigenous women with our dark brown eyes and see the twinkle reflect back into yours?

that’s hope. that’s healing. that’s good medicine. that’s the look of intergenerational healing.

it starts off as a glimmer. a tiny speck of sunshine.

it starts off as one week sober.
it starts off as going back to school.
it starts off as braiding your hair.
it starts off as asking “when’s the next roundy?”
it starts off by hugging your parents.
it starts off by acknowledging your feelings.
it starts off by showing up for your kids.
it starts off by practicing your language.
it starts off by reaching out—

reaching out of your chest
and into your soul—
finding your purpose,
pulling it out,
utilizing it,
embracing it.

it starts off by smiling at a stranger.
it starts off by seeing a twinkle in her eyes.

it starts with

kiya—you.

diet cokes and key lime pies,

winter time never felt so warm,

you and all your jewels,

my lust for life—

run, wild rabbits, run,

deep in the willows,

your hand in mine,

tracing constellations on your palm,

as the stars fold into us,

embers are reignited once again,

crowned forever, 

the queen of fire.

a spark to start the flame,

tempests roar, 

and storms rage 

the heat sears my skin,
blinding and relentless,
but i stand, 

unyielding,
watching the world blur
through waves of fury.

ashes collect at my feet,
evidence of trials faced,
sacrifices made
in silence, 

in screams,
in moments where breaking
felt inevitable.

but beneath,
there is something primal,
ancient, 

unmoved—
a heartbeat steady,
a promise whispered,
not of survival,
but of resurgence,

because,

“in order to rise from it’s own ashes,

a phoenix first must burn…”

I AM THE GIRL ON FIRE. 

my favourite palindrome is you—

the same forwards and backwards,

inside out and right side up,

never changing, always the same,

no matter which way you turn,

no matter how hard you convince me,

you remain untamed,

immutable.

after you left, i found new ways to love myself again—

i treated my wounded heart with gentleness,

braided the sadness into knots,

beaded the betrayal into hope,

danced instead of cried,

greeted every stranger with a smile,

woke up earlier,

ate all three meals,

and i prayed…

prayed so hard,

prayed you were sorry,

prayed that you missed me,

prayed you’d come back—

come back as a changed man

one who loved instead lusted,

one who slayed my dragons,

one who stayed,

one who never left,

one who never gave me new ways to hate myself again.

the time travellers train makes a stop in my dreams,

the choice is yours to dance beneath her wings—encapsulated by divine awe.

the seasons change, welcoming in every passerby—the birch bark stories are yours to share.

she is ceremony,

she is medicine,

she is healing.

embrace the unknown, go forward—

it’s time to wake up.