The forest is thick beyond the cliff that I look down
My hands are free
I am a powerful warrior woman
I stand with scraped forearms and knees
A little scared
A little bruised
Clutching my machete
I look down at my bruised thigh that peeks from the hole in my ripped jeans
The voices in my head are often evil
They are transplants from the mouths of heartless mortals
I can feel it when my heart beats in a time like this
I have survived the battles
I have arrived at this peaceful vision of foliage
There is nothing but freedom and love down there
With me I carry all this pain
These bloody marks look deadly
But it is beauty
It is life
My hands are free
And they might always be this empty
Yet there are many stories of past defeats and victories
There are lessons and wisdom that are priceless
Had these hands not have been free
I may not have had this extraordinary journey
Freedom comes with a price but gives many rewards
My hands are empty my love
I am not a perfect woman
I know too much to be
No comments:
Post a Comment