You’d like to help honestly you would
but you’re caught in the sprawl and tumble of your very own
Winter is coming or something
twilight maybe darkness maybe a shadowy reach
sometimes piercing sometimes
Fear among others is a briar
the ambition of brambles is deep they’d rather have your blood than
let you have their fruit.
You can remember being a child
before all of this
sun on an ivory dress before the marks were made before
the grey areas.
Now you’re very still.
You’d like to help but there are thorns you’d really like
to help but you have your own
small points of sweetness to defend.