Gift

This is given me to harness words like blade, to prick heart

Photo by Jens Johnsson on Unsplash

This is given me to harness words like blade, to prick heart

and

drain a whisper of pain.

This be my toil, my curse, this be my work

color your sky…black

from most beautiful blue

Tarnish your skin with touch of lover lost

Cover your lips with kisses

lighter than air

making you claim it isn’t fair

Fair to feel, Fair to want, Fair to be

This mine to give my words

Carve you from stone

Shatter your makeshift glass castle

My words meant to stab daggers into your back

I hope the blade dull that you may feel

every ripping ache

I give my words as balm, as healing

I give my words as…release

I hope there is something about this

something that makes you sick

When I say peace be with you, love, kindness

longsuffering, patience, understanding

I hope there is something that cries out

Something that angers.

These words come not cheap

They are not mine

They fall from these lips yet they are not mine

These words are much greater than I

This is only the gift I have been given

I share it as it must …