I Am Not a Martyr (I Am Strong)
I am not a martyr,
no,
I am not a crumbling wall
you need to tear down and build back up
in your vision of beautty
and I am not wilted,
not pitiful,
not ragged or torn.
Please stop pretending
that I am not made of twisted wire,
glass and steel,
moonlight and starlight and sunlight and sky,
impenetrable stone and soft earth,
stardust and sandy beaches,
cinnamon and lavendar and soap,
everything in the universe -
we are one and I know this now.
I know now that I am hills and valleys
and soft blankets on rainy-black mornings
and I am fireworks splashing onto somber clouds,
giggles and giddiness;
I am the moment before you step on stage,
the moment just before you hear a secret,
the moment right before diving into a sun-heavy pool -
I am anticipation
and love
and so full of life.
Let me live like a planet
and die like a star,
let me support others
and love them all with myself.
For I was born on mountaintops,
forged in salt and steel;
I am an iron sword
cutting through anything and everything
that's ever held me down
and my blood is made of fire,
I am drenched in starlight
and when I bleed,
comets pool from my veins.
I was made for greatness
and I have faced demons head-on,
near-drowned in the swollen bellies of rain-greedy streams
but I have bathed in the ocean
and all its mystery propels me.
I nursed on ice and soot,
nurtured by all the fires of hell
and I have the devil in my soul
so don't dare to confront me;
don't hesitate to bow down at my feet.
I am strong,
I am so strong
and I am not a martyr
(please don't make me your saint);
just let me be my own savior
and not worry about the rest of the world for once,
please let me feel like sunshine tastes
and let me rein in the entire world -
better yet, just let me reign.