When I was young my grandma would tell me that I was born near the spring equinox
because I was the start of bluer skies –
“that’s why your eyes are so bright, my sweet”.
As I grew older,
people saw my tentative warmth,
my promise of nicer days,
and would take it for themselves
until I was left in winter,
with bitter winds in my heart
and frost in my veins.
I can feel myself starting to thaw,
standing so close to your sunshine.
The first shoots of new growth are pushing through
and eventually I will bloom again.

– to those who have helped me find my way back