The Blood & The Bones

I was born strong
my mother and father made sure I knew it

still I look back in retrospect
how have I walked through fires
forests of pain
slept in all those beds of nails
and endured inner monologues of self brutality
how I have written this story without an ending yet

I was born in the dirt
life made sure I knew it

taught that every trial was just
the landscape of living
every night of hunger
every broken rib
every closed door
a necessary even if backwards step
until those steps became stairwells
and those stairwells became mountains
no place to lean
to reset

I was born alone
I made sure I knew it

which means that I can make it
holding my own hand
I understand
that I am the dragon and the slayer
the nightmare and the dreamer

but you entered stage left
quiet
determined
safe
through a door I thought I had closed
written in on a whim and then out again
as I was sure there was no place for a protagonist
breaking through the reinforcements
climbing up the mountain
writing yourself back in

and now
to be kept secured, shielded
to just be kept
to be allowed to sometimes just be without defenses
now I won’t go to war with the enemy even when it is self
or the dark when it was me who quit the flame
or the guilt I could never make peace with
alone
your safety makes me question how will I end the chapter of survival
how we turned a tale of angst into poetry
by just turning the page

I was born to be loved
you made sure I knew it
…

the blood
& the bones