How strange it is to notice:
These days, I am made of flat diet coke
where I should be made of laughter.

These days I feel colder,
as if the snow falls inside my bone marrow
instead of on the branches of the oak tree outside.

These days I check out eight books from the library,
try to embed their words in my tongue-
maybe for once I will know what to say to you
when you ask me why I apologize so much.

These days I smile at strangers and
sometimes,
sometimes I see them smile back
when they think I am not looking.

These days my voice often escapes me,
so instead of speaking, I will dance.
I will dance when you tell me how you are feeling today and
I will dance when you refuse to speak
because I need something to fill the silence
and
sometimes, footsteps are just as loud as words.

Do not mistake me for someone haunted and shattered.
I am not broken,
only a little bit fractured;
but that has always been the best way
to let the light in on these dark days.