she slept through a car crash
that almost killed her.
through whitewhite walls,
where her lover dies.
nobody thought she'd make it,
but she woke up a few months later
with flowers in her hair
and ash in her airway;
trying to remember how to start all over,
but forgetting to remember how to live.
fall slipped from her open eyes
and winter crawled in for a long hibernation
to her the clouds looked sick
and pale like they might
let everything inside them out,
but she opened up wide instead,
spilling blood where there was none to be spilled.
her heart slipped down the street
and with unsteady hands
she stitched in a bird and cut off its wings.