Rise

Gather up the pieces
To sew together
With a bad metaphor
About phoenixes

You’re not quite there
But you have at least
Found your feet
If not your heart

Swallow the pills
That taste like ash
And feathers
And burn your throat

Wash it all down
Like a baptism
Of water,
Of fire

Or of the sunshine
Your newly opened eyes
Have just begun
To see

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