I thought I knew what power was.
I thought it was embedded in the skin
stretched taut over the steel of your knuckles,
embroidered in the silk of your voice,
barely raised, deadly in its calm.
I thought there was power in the way
you peeled back my flesh and used my veins as strings.
Then I realized that not just any broken thing
can will the pieces of itself back together.
Power is the getting back up.
Power is the soldiering on.

08/10/2015

Author's Note: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L53gjP-TtGE

Posted on 08/10/2015
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