Emily Bex

“These woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.”
― Robert Frost, Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening

“Today Means Amen

Dear you, whoever you are, however you got here,
this is exactly where you are supposed to be.

This moment has waited its whole life for you.
This moment is your lover and you are a soldier.

Come home, baby, it's over. You don't need
to suffer anymore. Dear you, this moment

is your surprise party. You are both hiding
in the dark and walking through the door.

This moment is a hallelujah. This moment
is your permission slip to finally open that love

letter you've been hiding from yourself,
the one you wrote when you were little

when you still danced like a sparkler at dusk.
Do you remember the moment you realized

they were watching? When you became
ashamed of how much light you were holding?

When you first learned how to unlove yourself?
Dear you, the word today means amen

in every language. Today, we made it. Today,
I'm going to love you. Today, I'm going

to love myself. Today, the boxcutter will rust
in the garbage. The noose will forget

how to hold you, today, today--
Dear you, and I have always meant you,

nothing would be the same if you
did not exist. You, whose voice is someone's

favorite voice, someone's favorite face
to wake up to. Nothing would be the same

if you did not exist. You, the teacher,
the starter's gun, the lantern in the night

who offers not a way home, but the courage
to travel farther into the dark. You, the lover,

who worships the taste of her body, who is
the largest tree ring in his heart, who does not

let fear ration your love. You, the friend,
the sacred chorus of how can I help.

You, who have felt more numb than holy,
more cracked than mosaic. Who have known

the tiles of a bathroom by heart, who have
forgotten what makes you worth it.

You, the forgiven, the forgiver, who belongs
right here in this moment. You, this clump

of cells, this happy explosion that happened
to start breathing, and by the grace of whatever

is up there, you got here. You made it
this whole way: through the nights

that swallowed you whole, the mornings
that arrived in pieces. The scabs, the gravel,

the doubt, the hurt, the hurt, the hurt
is over. Today, you made it. You made it.

You made it here.”
― Sierra DeMulder, Today Means Amen