A. H. Lewi s
In order to observe your own darkness,
trace the black edge of yourself where
your shadow meets your soul. Recognize
that your wings are weights and your hands
are not made of silk and your tongue is
wrapped in barbed wire. These moments
only unfold when we indulge in the smoke
in our veins and the fire behind our eyes—and
then it retreats into hiding, in waiting. You’re a
monster, I told you, because everyone is.
Life has a way of making monsters of us all.