Wednesday, January 26, 2011

I do not turn to stone.

I am not your monument of lack
I am an ocean; deep and complicated
Rolling waves like time
Through hair and breath and skin
That cover over where I've cracked
And pieced myself back together
There is no undoing what I have done
But all those things belong to me

I am every hand that I have allowed to touch me
Every curious whisper of a finger
Every bed that I fell asleep in that was not mine
I am the fear that keeps me wide awake
Nested next to every smile from familiar lips
Each laugh that skydives off a mouth

I am that fullness that comes with understanding
Who you are and what you love
I am every aching nagging time
My mind insists "you are where you belong"
I am whole
Reassured to know I won't outgrow this being

I have retreated to the darker corners of my mapless mind
And I am filling in the ditches as I find them

I will not become the things you are not
I can look you in the eye and stand my ground without my sholders stooping

I want you to know the secret spaces in me
That I haven't made my peace with yet

I can gaze into a mirror without turning away

I do not flinch

I do not turn to stone.