It wasn’t pretty, parts of my days
burnt my skin and scratched my veins
blew quite literally from my mouth
pinched my heart and ripped like cloth
the vision I had to sustain
the colors I clutched at desperately to see
were pointed at to me by you
your fingers found that they could bleed.
The tearing of our flesh and sound
our metaphysical seams
was necessary to find this light
that I can finally see.
I wonder where I’d actually be
if you hadn’t helped me along
if you hadn’t shown me the truth of pain
Would I be lost?
Would I be gone?
Your truth I can gladly see
is knotted at my ankle
it knocks me down when I am dumb
and flies me higher than I expect
it never drops me on my head
but shows me the ground I’ll find instead
it tugs and holds me in the comfort way
the swaddling warmth I need
it reaches for me when I’m down
and hands me air I need to breathe.
The fingers bleed and the truth tightens
the flesh still red and raw
But my flesh is mine and your blood is yours
it’s malleable and strong
The world is bigger than it seemed
and chances are scattered ahead
No longer buried beneath my burden
I am set free
and I am here.