I only come out in the rabbit hole of night.                 It’s not a miracle.

​        We no longer align. You want to lay shadows to rest in the ground.

I want to wear them like a cloak.

​        When I was human, I wished I was the moon. Only the walls listened. Only the endless blue horizons

carried me through the night-blooming jasmine landscape of girlhood, the claws of the one

who touched me first, the ripples of tricks disguised as treats that spread from his palms into my womanhood.

​        If you were to ask me how I survived the haunted house of adolescence, I would tell you

​                I was the ghost. How healing is a process without applause. How I became the snow-dusted landscape.

How I burst with milkweed and sugar water, wore grief as a necklace of moths. I wrote myself into a celestial.

Each poem morphed into a crater. ​                Each tear, a bright companion in the dark.

Prompts used (tags are the poets’ IG handles):

@angelealowes - “I only come out at night” + “I wish I was the moon” + “down the rabbit hole” @arcanapoetrypress - “bursting with milkweed” - from Where the Monarchs Never Die by Rocio Franco @chio_la_chingona @elenaspoetry - “when I was a human” + “to the one who touched me first” + “if you were to ask how I survived high school” @tangledflxwers - “each poem morphs into you” @libbyjenner.poetry - “snow dusted landscapes” + “we no longer align” @chris_kads + @alinakay66 + @esb.poems - “it’s no miracle” @rosepapercastles - “grief is a necklace” @jasmine.s.higgins - “claws” @theconstantpoet - “myths of the night-blooming jasmine” + “tricks, treats, & night terrors” @loisofthehearth - “healing as a process without applause” + “write a list of your qualifications for haunting houses” @wildgreensmag - November Daily Words - “ripples” @imandq + @ml.mecham + @theincidentalpoet - “only the walls listened”