"To be soft is to be powerful." - Rupi Kaur
For the boys who are told they can't show emotions
For the girls who are called weak because of their skin
For those who can't find the power within themselves or are unable to unsheathe it.
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Her hair was dipped in honey It slowly slid down her brow Matted in her eyelashes Along her cheeks And in between her raw cherub lips
Her eyes weren't the ocean depths Or ethereal light descended from the heavens They were deep, rich pools of wisdom and mahogany They have absorbed beyond a million words Written upon dusty pages that were crumbling in her palms To pristine, white paper with the blackest of ink, smooth under her fingertips Her eyes were wet tree bark Light casted upon the upturned soil of a garden, composed of wildflowers and weeds and thorns All things beautiful to those who chose to see it
She was a parasite Embedded into my flesh Draining my blood Draining my life I still adored her It wasn't her fault, for I put her there It was as if I was a hawk, swooping in on it's prey I dug my talons in her gut until she crawled inside Blood-soaked and manipulated, she submitted
She was vulnerable Broken The scars upon her skin, Fresh and decrepit, Was a beacon A lighthouse during a stormy night on the Atlantic I added more while the others disappeared, but they weren't on her skin They were embedded on her organs Running through her veins
I chained her down Great iron chains cuffed to her wrists as she screamed to the heavens It wasn't anguish, it was anger and hatred.
I set her free She flew and flew Catching the wind as she glided And I chained myself Watching as she fell for someone new Watching as she grew content Letting her go was the best for her, but I'm still chained
