I am …

I am not my mother.
Or the mother before her.
I am not like another.
I am not the lies I have believed in secret.
Or the ones still screaming my name in broad daylight.

I am not defeated.

I am not lost.

I am the pieces I have gathered,
Flame tested,
made ever stronger amongst the ash.

I am the lessons I have watched
Unfold before me,
The ones that still leave
The taste of blood in my mouth.

I am battle tested,
A collection of scars,
Redeemed and made beautiful,
Over and over and over again.

I am a universe,
A love story,
Stitched together by grace.

I am relentless.
I am hope.

cswhitlow

Advertisements

My love 

My love,

Listen…

 

You are not broken.

You are scarred and still standing,

Battle worn, weary,

But still kind,

still needed.

 

You are not defeated.

 

Stop feeding that darkness

with old lies

and unrelenting doubt.

 

 

My love,

Look….

 

Look through my eyes,

Into this heart,

Offered,

Open in these bloodied hands,

 

Listen,

Look…

And I’ll show you,

the miracle you’ve become.

 

cswhitlow

Will

I will set this fear on fire.

I will brush the blood and gravel from these weary knees.

I will stand and sift through the glorious ash of the girl too afraid to live.

I will gather up the good pieces left refined

And leave the rest to become ink and scars.

I will put to good use this needle and thread.

I will allow to mend what has been left torn open.

I will open wide, wiser eyes and seek.

I will sing a new song.

I will emerge less of her ….

and so very much more.

I will.

I am.

cswhitlow

Growing Pains


Woken from nightmares again …

What if’s and Why did I’s

raining down like volcano ash;

suffocating,

gray,

smothering the light

that sets free.

What if I simply slipped back into winter, frozen and numb?

Why did I let myself begin to burn?

What if I ran again …

from him, from her, from the dreams?

Why did I let myself be seen?

What if I went back into hiding?

Why did I step from the shadows at all?

What if I gave back into fear?

Why did I ever believe their lies?

cswhitlow

Battle Axe

Her midnight words,

Uncaged,

Unrestrained,

Let loose by fear,

Had always been a battle axe,

Fashioned to frighten away,

Bent towards annihilation.

They tore down,

ripped apart,

Severed limbs

And organs…

More often her own.

She had always been destruction for the things she wanted most.

Until one came…

who could finally withstand

her blade.

cswhitlow