There were days
when the ice in her pupils
would burn their victim
to a mess of frostbitten limbs
among flurries of captivity
and twirling, black masks
of hatred and woe.
There were days
when her throat seemed forever blocked
by the boulder heart that arose
to choke the breath that she wished,
when she woke each morning,
would shallow itself
until frozen in time.
There were days
when the humdrum drone
of life surrounding her,
dialogues of laughter
and dances of camaraderie,
only tipped her sideways
until emptiness set itself
deep within the chaos she harbored beneath
camouflaged skin
that was cold to touch.

Take us on a journey
through the rocky rivers that will lead us
to the mind that awakened one day,
melting those eyes
into tributaries of courage.
The aroma of rain is on the horizon.
Let it wash us away into the ocean
that splashes against the beach
where her feet tread sand,
where a breeze greets
the palm trees in the distance
and finds its way through each strand of her hair
while her eyes close in remembrance of the moment.
Freedom is just past the vantage point.
Watch as she delicately forms fists in preparation
for its fight,
and hope unburies its sanctuary inside her lungs.
The bitter taste on her twisted tongue
will soon be swallowed
in sovereignty.