trophyGriefI rememberChildish doodles of wolves in classTracing dragons and carving stampsA childhood unburdenedBy the world I rememberNotebooks full of daydreamsThings to hide from parentsNotes passed in class and games on the playgroundA mind brightWith inspiration and promise I rememberA child faster than any otherCatching lizardsRunning laps and playing tagA body unbrokenBy timeSongs, Sea Salt & StormsShun the stormMy mother warnsWinds bite and rains clawStand under a treeDon't be tallDress upBundle upGo insideYou've seen the treesThe flashThe firesYou'll catch a coldYour shoes will get muddyYou'll die. Children are sculptors of sandsSands kissed by the seaNot the sky Kites soon forget the caretaker antsHeads lifted high by the encouragement of windWhich burns your skin A child sprints through fields of paperCloth overhead with a little light to guide themSofter than the light that scorches the earth Did you know windburn is a lie?A simple misunderstanding of sunlight. Did you know the sea is the sky is the rivers is the sea?A journey you cannot see. Did you know the flash is an artist upon the striked?Drawing mazes into nude skin. I'm already sick.I'm already dirty.I'm already broken. Call me mad, call me ill, call me a death seekerBut you'll never call the heartbeat I share with the skyThe way the rain kisses my aches and painsThe way the wind cools my burning musclesThe way the lightning fills me with wonder Sticky sand squishes between my toesMy hair is too short for knotsI am soothed by the aroma of sea salt and storms No, I will not shelterIn this moment I am aliveAnd if lightning would strikeThen strike me down.I've not much to lose anyway.