YWP

He is a toy cowboy on a horse 

and is dragged off into the sunset 

while my stuffed bunny heart 

waits in the backdrop to be held. 

Our God is the small Girl who hides 

how do i say--

yesterday, you called me a miracle 

and i believed you because 

you can make me believe 

anything. 

(you have not always wielded that well.) 

There is this idea that children have a fear of storms. The distant rumble of thunder a warning to run to their parents' bedroom, throw back the covers, and burrow deep into the familiar warmth. 

last week, my brother dropped his heart 

on the pavement and we both 

watched as it cracked right open, 

spilling in red ribbons and golden gears 

Here’s the thing about being a boat: your quality of life depends entirely upon the humans who take care of you. As for me, I suppose I’m lucky. They haven’t traded me out for another, even though I’m old and my motor doesn’t work much.