“ Master Blacksmith, I would like to commission a weapon most formidable. The mere mention of its legendary name shall strike fear in my foes. “

{ In Hephaestus’ name, I craft you this }

So I will hone your heart,
Set fire to your lungs,
And conquer all your unanswered prayers
Into a battle roar.

I will boil these tears.  
A stinging, blinding pool at the bay of your eyes,
Use them for crystal clarity,
To sharpen the mind like a whetstone.

I will forge a sword from your fury,
And the hate of your enemies.
Temper it with thunder,
Cut a path out of illusions.

But not before this:
I crush your spirit a thousand times,
Force you to your knees.  
I will show no mercy on your soul —
Not even if you beg for it —
Bleed it, wring the daylight out of it.
To your despair, growth is the cruelest devil,
And I its most loyal advocate.

But in time you will learn Strength,
And to heal;  
Through the growing pains and screams
Mend all broken bones,
Stitch up all the open wounds.
Dripping, drilling, stilling.
You will, you will, at your will,
Lace together the miracle, the magum opus: Your undefeated self.

No comfort or ease lies in death.  
But all phoenix bathe in flame and ash.
Selves and egos, they died for you to live
— So live!
Dance on its grave with manic abandon.
Honor it with your new life.
Transcend it, over and over again.

the vines began to creep up
we didn’t know when they first started growing
little green buds buried deep below
I tamped them down with my feet
like weeds, they'd regrow stronger
they tied themselves around my ankles
robust enough to immobilize
converting my legs into a mess of thorns and trunks
my body paralyzed at the centre
the branches took the longest to grow
when the first one shot through
I thought I'd be upset, but felt only relief
the black flecks of my eyes became the dead of winter
not a single leaf could ever grow on these limbs
but as the roots thickened, I began to forget
what it felt like to ever walk or speak or love
I knew thirst and hunger, the need to grow
taking no comfort in feeling rooted
but not remembering how to move, either
drowned in my own thicket
I needed to be felled to bud anew

An old feeling visited me today,
I turn the lights off,
Yet the shadow still follows me in the dark,

Days turned into months,
I forget how you sound,
Your face,
Your scent,
But your essence remains,

Like a lucid dream,
I remember the rhythm of the fire,
It danced with us that night,
Oh, the infinite sound of night,
That comforted us for days to come,

In the midst of our existence,
I am left wondering,
Wondering if you still dance with fire,

I will always dance with fire,
Under the pouring rain,
Engulfed by snow,
Waves and winds hurling me around,
“Hush,” I whisper to myself,
As the rest of my body painfully turn into ice,

I feel numb,
I continue to burn so intensely inside,
From flesh skin to ashes,
From ashes to life,
A rose emerge,
It starts dancing around the fire,
I will always dance with fire,
Because I am the fire,

Dance with me even when I am on fire,
Everything will burn,
Except you by my side,
Dance with me night after night,
Until we both burn with the sun,
That gave us life.

What are we, if we do not set ourselves on fire?
Keep dancing with fire,
Let’s burn the night sky,
And awaken those who lost their fire.

There’s a winter inside of me
A wild life
Is hidden beneath the snowfall

Uncover the fossilized heart
It looks like cherry wood, my blood candied sweet
Uncover the womb
Still somehow warm, my eggs floating in shining amber

All is frozen in time

Why is the sun shining on him?
Why are we under the same stars?
When did I become a woman?

Aged are my thoughts and fears
Aged am I
By the cold place I found safety

I am a mother to my pain
I have captured those unbearable moments
In a frost only I can melt
To withstand the elements of life

A mother knows her children will grow
A mother knows she must let go

How can you remember anything
when you’ve turned off your mind
How can you experience anything
when your heart is silenced?

How can you know who you are
when you’re a people pleaser
Smiling fasley
Averting your eyes to conceal your truth deep within

My words pour through me like clashing symbols
Desperately trying to make a statement
Seeking to grab my attention
But I’m elsewhere
I’m never here
Sometimes I subsist in reveries,
But mostly I suffer through nightmares
with eyes wide open

There is a sickness growing silently within me
But I’m not here to tend to it
I sometimes peel back my armor
and re-enter my body
when I’m with another person
whom I believe might be able to receive me fully,
Someone who could possibly see me and love me
But I’m left stranded
After courageously revealing my tender soul
I guess they were simply too blind to see
My pure, childlike beauty
So I stuff my real self down again,
Down underneath my false representative
Below the surface of my fake identity
Is the only place my real self will ever belong

But I can’t accept that,
It’s not my truth
Maybe social conditioning
tells me I must follow the rules
to fit in
But I don’t want to fit in anymore

I feel something rising within me,
Something latent that I’ve dismissed within me for so long
It is my battlecry,
It is my truest song
I just won’t allow fear to hold me back anymore
I’ve got this one life,
And what is it for?
I may have hit countless rock bottoms
But I’ll always rise,
For with every time I rise
I become stronger,
And wiser
And kinder,
Softer, more weathered
But humbled
With every instance my heart was cracked
It opened
Wider and wider

So you see,
I can’t be what you need me to be
I can’t go back to who I used to be
I must answer to this new life beckoning me
I must rise once again
To invite this process of becoming everything I am meant to be.

Women crave for a rebirth
and I am no exception.
I crave to hear a choir and feel the water rush over me,
leaving me with a sense of purpose and a new perspective.
I want to forget my name.
I want to see my life in a new light.
I feel it's time for me to leave my body and leave my past.
It's time for me to find my mind
because I know that it must get better than this.

So let me grow,
I believe that it does get better than this.
I have seen many women learn how to scream their own name,
over and over and over and over again.
Howling into the clouds and radiate like the sun,
and I start to wonder when my time will come.
However, I know I must learn to grow steady like the harvest
because I know rebirth is not a path that we can rush down

There sits an ache
A longing
So deep
And reaching so far
That I don't know which direction
it's pulling

East or west
Past or future

I've left pieces in so many places
Each part longing
for it's better half
Having been carelessly
scattered
Along the way

Perhaps this vulnerable sore
Oozing with desire
and hope
Is the message of change
A reminder that
To heal
To become whole
I must collect the pieces
And tend to
Myself

The ache of hope
The ache of change
The ache of something real
The ache of connection
The ache of cracking
And crumbling
And restoration
The ache of beauty
And authenticity
The ache of wanting to live
A real life
Rather than the one
I've sculpted
For show

The dull throbbing
Increases with each day
With each
step
forward
that Isn't
in the direction
Of myself

The pain is a reminder
To take the first step
The one that is only mine
To take

Direction, unknown

Crawling through this chaos in my mind with my plan
No one to confide in with my heart in my hand
I've been deadened by my pain
Have no more lessons for my brain
My time and life is counting down
Whilst I'm sat in this waiting game
Done with looping round in circles, in games for me to lose
Time to straighten to my purpose, to spring from this noose
A lousy pen as my firearm
As if the ink will create a spark
I've heard and seen the future that's written on my palms
And good god with all my heart, I will not stand by it
I think you're misinformed
I don't care if you're psychic
I refuse to serve that storm
I'll rewrite what can not be unwritten
Escape the cobra's clutch alive despite being bitten
Concuct an antidote from the venom of this prison
No matter how long I do my time, grappling on decisions
I forbid this captive's life to be lead by submission

you giggle and tell me she likes me
as if I hadn't known all along
I knew from the moment she saw me
when her arms comforted me
and she hushed my crying soothingly
I know I can talk to her about literature
debate politics and human rights
laugh about science fiction or philosophy
and I remember her pink boy shorts
the ones that didn't cover anything
I can still smell the warm vanilla
that gathers on the edges of her neck
how soft her skin was under my fingers
but still, I doubt my ability to
make anyone happy (including myself)
so it's better for me to seem unattainable
because this way, I can't disappoint
her, or myself (or anyone else)
I pull away from the people who like me
it's just easier this way, I often think
I will become art work, beautiful
but best admired from 40 paces away