A gift

When my strength


Let me rest my weary

Head against your shoulder

The gift of my vulnerability

Wrapped in stoicism

Opened with care

Because I’ve given it before

And they took all the pieces

Made a knife and

Carved their name

Into my chest

But you,

Eyes shining with

Delight at the

Chance to serve

The wounds I bear

Hold me close

Brush your fingers

Against my skin

Make me remember

My strength

When it feels like a

Myth told so often

Its meaning worn away

But you are muse

And nurse

The healing begins

And I soften

Before I grow


Ten feet tall

Made from diamond


2 thoughts on “A gift

  1. Beautifully done…..

    Past may have sharpened many knives and grooved them into our skin….. but we are always hopeful to bloom in those scars… with hope and acceptance…. šŸ’•

    Liked by 1 person

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