She Who Lives

There is a girl in the fragments of the mirror on this floor screaming to be heard,

There is a girl (broken & betrayed) in the body of this poem seeking validation from the world.

For survival, the walls tucked in their ears so they wouldn’t fall & crumble to the ground with her wails.

There is a girl with her demons clawing at her heart, at her hair.

There is a girl with broken nails ready to crawl her way into a home called healing.

She lives in the mosaic of everyone who has killed her dreams & also loved her back to life.

She lives so that we might live & exist with our lungs roaring with relief,

We are finally free like the orange orb of the sky when she is out of the reach of the night,

Our heads are out of the clouds because she who lives lives at the threshold of our hearts.

To the girl with the tongues of fire on her head, Speaking in languages only known to angels,

Your wings were clipped to make the earth a dwelling place for our dreams/ destinies/ destinations.

Arkoreblog