“In my darkest hour,” they say
But this is rarely true
Dark hours ebb and flow
The human condition
With a furrowed brow I went outside
I want my mother but she is dead
This ache
I want my mother but she is dead
This disquiet
I want my mother but she is dead
I thought it like a mantra
Fuck this
A dragonfly flitted amongst the fall leaves
Daring to be beautiful in my darkness
Fuck off, I said
He did something so weird then
He came and took a rest on my shirt sleeve
I saw his little face
Hot tears on my fevered cheeks
Something lifted inside me
I’m so sorry
I’m so sorry
I’m so sorry
I whispered like a mantra
To the face of the dragonfly
Thank you for holding beauty in my darkness
And I was talking to both of us