nora stretches her arms like flowers
she is a tiny fighter
who grew from dry dirt

she has been hurt by men
who said they would protect her green stem
and then cracked her open
when they ripped her from the ground
she took her wounds with pluck
and let her sap guts bleed transient
liquid interiors never tasted so tranquil

nora doesn’t seem like the type
who cuts tick marks along the lines
of her floral spine
out of self pity

but maybe out of fury
she is a tiger lily
freckled cheeks and hair like
a sunset
she is obstinate
to make progress
nora wants to **** her sickness
she still has a dark scar on her shoulder
from the day she tumbled down the stairs
would have died at his hands
if her shoulder didn’t get caught
between the railing balusters
after being almost killed by a man
who tried to crack her open
like so many beer bottle caps
nora collapsed in the quiet desperation
of what he had left of her family
screaming pity the fool
who ever taught me
to love the devil
and call him a father

she wants to escape the laughter
of her classmates
pigeon holed in a tiny body
nora wants to escape her life
too often for repose
she wants to close the door
and hide huddled in the bath tub
waiting for the storm to pass
but she has not met many calm eyes
and she cannot seem to escape the storms
that pass through her like a spring in tornado alley
some days nora feels like dorothy
and she wears her red shoe escape plan
in the blood tick marks she leaves
on her arms and legs
each knife and razor blade
she uses to hack herself apart
reminds her there are other ways to crush pain
and she begins to realize
she can't run and hide but
she can fight  

nora does not beg for mercy
she waits
every day she takes another step
down the yellow brick road
leaving lilies in her wake
crawling up with hope
through every stone
she will not be worth only the
pain she counts in fives
on her skin blushing like burnt red cheeks
she hasn’t slept easy this past year
but she watches the sun rise
with the consolation
of how little she summons tears these days
of each stone she grows over
trampling her fears
with heels like roots curled around boulders
nora will survive tomorrow
understand her worth in the snaking path of flowers
she’ll turn around to stare down at
growing in the wake of her progress