when the lightning strikes me back
and my cracked-cup mind can no longer hold
all the subtle fire it’s meant to contain
find me at the edge of a cold, dark place
i wanted to be the lightning,
not simply the bearer of it,
but sometimes both dream and nightmare
outpace me and i cannot find my way home
so if the world begins to slant
remind my parched mouth
that i am both cupbearer and bitter wine
reforge both sides of my twisted spine
when the lightning
strikes
me
back
-Allēna 7/31/2025
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