Poetry | Journal

She took the shattered glass from my mirror
and taped it, took off my clothes and washed clean the self hatred.
She came in grey
with leather soles
and saved me from myself.
With grace
she silenced the screaming
echoing through the halls.
The silence.
Following.
The momentary stare where in the crisp waning moonlight
the air suffocates the hungry.
She wiped my tears and carried me home,
singing soft, soprano melodies
Making my sunken, shallow breathing whole.