My Soul

　　 by Ember Ward

　　 Sometimes

　　 When I feel like I'm going to fall apart

　　 I hold my ribs， all the way around，

　　 Both sides.

　　 My ribs hold me together，

　　 Like glue.

　　 They keep my breath close to my heartbeat.

　　 They keep my soul from escaping and

　　 Leaving me， grounded.

　　 I hold brightness and shadows in

　　 The hollow where my ribs meet.

　　 I hold them there in the memories

　　 Of slow， sorrowful music and

　　 Porch steps.

　　 I hold my ribs， until I feel solid.

　　 Until my legs are tree trunks and

　　 My fingers are fruit.