Katrina Kaye

I emerge from the darkness of my underworld
carrying a lantern and a handful of sunflowers.

In my back pocket are all the poems that have ever touched my heart;
in my boot a hidden twenty-dollar bill for emergencies.

Wrapped around me is every piece of advice my mother ever gave me
and every life lesson she never realized she impressed upon me.

I carry the music of Mozart humming in my throat
and the rare, honest smile of my brother in my memory.

I carry the good and the bad, the ashes of my fire and the hope for better,
a wooden box of mementos from the people I once knew and once knew me.

I carry the acceptance for what I cannot change
and a stubborn hope to change what I can.

I carry everything and nothing.
My hands remain forever empty and open.