All the words I wish your fingers could feel

all the times I’ve wished
you could know
the silent sorrow
lying stiff in my throat
like cold
and broken teeth.

I wish you could hear
the child that cries
in my flesh and makes
my bones ache.

I wish you could speak to my fear.

I wish you could hold me
in your arms like oceans
and soothe what my muscles remember
all the bruises, all the sour hope
all the screams and scraped knees
the cloudy days so dark
I wondered if my eyes
were even open.

The days that I felt
like August, and that I, too
would soon turn
to Fall.