Family you choose for yourself

I went with her back to the site of her first rebellions to practice our latest. We'd been so good lately. I pulled smoke into me: at 3000 miles I can't even touch him, let alone keep him inside my ribs. He, the green guardian gardener, up turned the earth sifting out weed roots. The soil took a breath before I gave the most I could ocean-flavored rain at the painful release of being loosened little by little and one day at a time. The loosening felt like the apocalypse, of me, of us. I pounded fists against walls of silence, fighting myself for the right to even whisper, let alone yell. She reminded me of myself, of us: we two cared for the rest, never minded rainy days. Our tears were part of our heartbeat even when silence was in demand We always met demands. There was comfort on the drops, falling against the windshield, playing our song; all of them. I save my small well-formed quiet truths for them. The moments of voice too sure of having me pegged implies foregone conclusion wholly separate from me. They are worth breaking through anew.