I dreamt that the gods picked me out of bed

and shook me violently

they had grown tired of my struggle

and breathed bravery into my lungs

i was not born ready for this

but something has changed

it was desire that made me weak

so I will take those parts you claimed

and build a new fire

a new flame to consume the old

and burn the blame

– Sheila C.



if mercy was an object 

I think that time 

parts itself for us,


I think it barters 

with lamentation 

for our relief..

I’m not sure how it decides 

or what it leverages 

but honestly, 

I’ve been grateful 

for the heat

and the freedom 

of simple choices, 

like choosing solitude 

over loneliness 

and movement 

over longing

and disbelief. 

– sheila c.