Sometimes a Friend
becomes a foe
and that foe becomes a stranger.
She cuts my body in half with words.
Is this how we become less, she asks;
the words bleed into my open heart.
This is how we become more, she says
as she forces my body back together.
She spoke the words I understood,
yet I choose to be the one to walk away.
Within the Trail, There’s a Stone
A stone that recalls every memory,
every conversation shared while walking
toward the destination campsite.
Every flicker of light from the nearby bonfire,
and when your hand would reach for mine.
It’s the same stone we carved our initials into—
to leave our mark on an object
we would later leave behind.