my ghosts have the summer
to run free
to rediscover
every crevice of me
they have been hidden away
for too long
behind my eyelids
and between my fingers
they are a part of me
and will be treated as such
i cannot hide
in my own walls
and i will relearn my life
every part of it
as it has happened
and as it will be
the mountains still stand tall
after earthquakes, and each rock
to have been loosened by the shaking
only leaves a new handhold to reach the top
hyperion*