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i.

to be perfectly honest,
i've got a rabbit's heart.

you know,
the kind that freezes
the moment it senses danger.
kind of like a january midnight where
all is still and the only thing you can taste
is the rawness of your uncovered
fingers.

and it aches
and aches
until your fists refuse
to loosen,
before finally it stops beating
and you're slowly dying
inside of yourself.

ii.

once upon a time
i fancied myself a she-wolf.

ivory fangs that bit down on
desperation,
silver eyes that could see
through hell itself,
and a blackness nestled peacefully
inside my chest,
sleeping all day and waking only
when the full moon rose.

but i have learned what i truly am;
just a deer
with terror blooming crimson like a gunshot
wound as she runs
and runs
further into the snowstorm.

iii.

perhaps the thing i most often yearn for,
the life i would rather live,
is one in which i have wings.

maybe a hawk or a raven or
even a sparrow. as long as i can
soar above the primordial, wretched winter that
is my mind,
i don't think i would really
care. the sky is calling to me
and i've made it wait
far too long.

iv.

i'm having a love affair with the idea of being a phoenix.

but i am afraid
my fire would not burn bright enough
to melt the ice away.

it has always clung to my lips,
and sometimes i cannot breathe,
or speak my own mind even when i
step into the flames and beg them
to brand the feathers into my spine.

oh god,
am i afraid.

not everything rises from the ashes.