8.4.22
FOOL.S.GOLD
I want to tell my friend
be brave
to grip the sum of her parts
from the debris in her headspace
sandbags over her cheekbones
plywood on her sternum keeps
her eyes from watching the crumble of the rubble in the tremble of her hands
I want to tell her
to shake off the shackles
before the Earthquake claims her foundation
as it has so many others
as it almost did me
sometimes the bravest thing to do
is to run