I am not my monster. I am not a gift of violence from fists my ancestors couldn’t hide. I am not ashamed of my demons.
I am not afraid to command the devil to do his darkest on my dark days.
I am not defeated. I am not the soldier with a sword in his flesh. I am not my own Jesus, with blood and water running from my sides. I am not your saviour.
I am not bound to yesterday. The present is my means of moving forward. But I am not a slave. I am at no one’s mercy.
I am not desperate; I am hurting. I am not alone but my hands are tired.
I am not yesterday’s tears. I am not a body of water – moving, just to stop from standing in fear.
I am all strength. Well, mostly I think. I am more courage than strength. I am not broken. I am brave.
I am learning. I guess I’m somewhere in between.
I am not certain. I am trying to believe that I am capable of more than just the in and out of air. I am music and air.
I am not syllables caught mid windpipe.
I am breathing fluid fire set to burn the monster.