Antithesis

There is a sundial in my soul that has lived

in half shadow for some time now. My compass has always

pointed me south even when hell was far behind.

My internal clock has been

ticking back and forth on the same goddamn number

since aged four and the seconds seem to quicken at their own pleasure,

regardless of the fact that I can no longer breathe in time.

I have built my home underneath shade, because what is the betrayal

of seeing a sunset without ever feeling the sun?

I have seen comfort and felt its fur brush against my lip

yet I cannot shake this slaughterhouse inside of me.

I can ripen like fruit and split at the seams. This cocoon

can yield no more growth yet I want to stay, for this is all I know.

This growing, without blooming, is not growth, I tell myself.

I promise you, however many times your heart has broken today,

its skin will shed and it will hurt you to the point of believing in every pantheon

but your tears are not wasted.

This tree will blossom as you nourish it with you because all you ever really needed

was yourself.

So tonight, we will dance beneath this tree

and the sun will explode

and the sky will tremble

and we will laugh

and cheer on this earthquake,

because our compass directs us

to this point. Right here.

Right where we are,

where we will grow,

and where we will bloom.