Feed me to the wolves
Surrender me to the sea
I have decided to settle in ambiguity

I am brittle
I am bone
but in the confusion
I will build a home

This skin is tender
Sensitive to the touch
Who knew that working
within
and without
could do so much?

Patience is a virtue
and resilience is key
I have to believe that peace can be created
from self-made adversity

Powerless

They say that idle hands are the devil’s workshop
but I’ve encountered far more demons in my head
than in my hands
The pitfalls of my imagination lie in the beasts
of my own creation
Beasts that bide their time
and cast shadows far and wide
Beasts that whisper sweet nothings
and highlight my shortcomings
They are the
living
breathing
mental proof
of self sabotage
How do I forgive what’s within?

Wordsmithing

I can sculpt moments into words
But maybe I’ve been inscribing meaning to things left well enough alone
Take away my chisel and mallet
I’m not strong enough to set them aside
Give me no choice
but to let the unfinished thought blow away with the wind

Witness Marks

This body is a monument to lessons learned and applied
It’s compiled of bruises and scars
of delicate touches and robust pieces
It sings of things gained and lost
of baptism in the water
and renewal in the fire
This body of stars and earth keeps company with celestial beings while firmly staying rooted to the only place it can call home
The bones are notched
The heart is worn
But it all pays homage to the bold and willing soul that’s contained within