Old Lover Old Friend

A free spirit my love; that is what you are. You roam free where the music plays, and dance while the wind hugs you at the hips and sways you into a song. You glide so beautifully into a room even when the anger pools at the bottom of your feet and you tap the earth like drums. I’ve seen you broken & shattered in the sharpest of pieces even your mother could not hold you together for the day; I’ve seen the angels in your voice turn to the scratchy walls of hell because they would not be heard.

I’ve seen you, fight men. Armies and armies of men and their shoulders falsely broadened by privilege and ego. I’ve watched you gather up your strengths to push away the fears and grief of the men in your family. You gave them strength when they hid their weaknesses in your drawers, you gave them love when they filled your mind with contempt, you gave them excuses excuses excuses when they failed you.

And they always did.

Love should never feel like a burden and shouldn’t feel desperate to hold on to. You loved who couldn’t love himself, you loved until he loved himself, and you loved who could not love you back. You’ve turned swine into swans, you’ve built homes out of broken things (and let them be occupied by someone else, visited by many but not you) you’ve been the tool, the solution, the salvation, the glue, the reason, the voice and the silence.

If he cannot love you I can

If he cannot stay I can

If he cannot understand I can

If he cannot, I can and I will.

Because what better loyalty than mine? What better songs to match your symphonies than mine? I love you and that should matter, I love you even when you don’t see it and forget it because a bird landed on your shoulders and picked at your chambers, and you took refuge in his song.

There’s art in your color, even the darkest of shades. There’s beauty in what you are, even the deepest of ones that did not grow. Whatever you blossom into I’ve seen and I’ve watered, I’ve tended to with verses, chorus, bridges, and holy scriptures. I’ve spoken to you in sleep and showed you what’s hidden; I’ve cleared your eyes when they were too clouded to make sense of the algorithms and formulas on a blackboard.

Remember me? darling? Remember me, blue..

He is not the answer, no one else is the answer. His absence will hurt your expectations; they will hurt your heart but they will not hurt me. they’ll destroy your emotions and thought on newer lovers or future husbands but it will not break me- it cannot touch me.

Your family couldn’t touch me. when you were little and you were locked up for days, when you were an adolescent and you were poked with their spikes through the cages of their morality, when you were an adult and they attacked you with guns when all you had were your hands.

“You have the strength and power to face Armies Khulood.”

Remember the voices that chanted and not the ones that condemned. Those holy scriptures you hold onto with your teeth, those very words that echo themselves into your prayers and tattooed their calligraphy in your tears let those be the things walking with you, running with you, and never standing in front of you like brick walls.

Rid of the smoke taunting your glow. I’ve remained even when you were violated… I’ve carried those bruises and broken bones and told you they are relics of an old war you should never be ashamed of. What others took from you were taken when you were powerless.

Your security

Your assurance of goodness

Your certainty that justice is always served

Your faith..

I’ve healed you unbeknownst to you or any other; let me finish before you throw yourself into fire again

And I’ll heal you until we are food for worms.


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