with gentle hands

we accept the love we think we deserve

photo via pinterest

my soft heart was born in a cage, with walls built by sinners and the crestfallen hopes of believers. the shadows there linger in hindsight, afraid of the light and never revering the symphony of its beat. sometimes tempted by beguiling charm; mostly protected with self-taught trepidation.

an archetypal eldest daughter raised by an archetypal eldest daughter—perfection grants affection, and the price of adoration is never consistent in its sacrifice. i was raised with a fire within me, to always rise and never falter. my hands tied behind my back with shackles of subservient womanhood.

everything is black and white in my youthful mind. to taste the air of wild freedom, my survival only trusts sovereignty transcending into war on love and all that is fair. i’ve learned to stand on my own, now coated in armor of my own bravado. fear tattooed down my spine; love a wager of the independence i kept clutched in my fist.

always dressed in layers and nuance—desire and defiance dance with the gold around my neck. the love i thought i deserved sat on the throne, always telling me how to be. my only defense lay in the hands of escape, retreating from the scene and my fate of only being a bride.

pressure to perform, cast into the role of savior, mother, sister, giver, seductress, saint, lover, perfect people pleaser. born to run with the wind and wild horses, to pursue dreams written in the sky, to shine like the moon’s reflection on the sea.

loose definitions of romance sank in pools where the surface was my mirror. lessons in love revolved around never enough and too much. childhood daydreams, painted in hope, of tenderness given freely and wildly like water from a broken hose.

echoes call my name and i hear the world in their voices. teardrops from the clouds brush my hair and the touch of the earth brings me back to myself. a mother holding her child in the depths of every storm. wake up, she whispers to my desperate thoughts, i’ll show you how you’re meant to love and be loved.

the prophecy lied to me, dripped in poison of my haunted illusions of how to earn a love worth having. when i reached into its puddle i found a vision of what it could be, how i could have it all. i don’t live on a battlefield of love or loss, there’s no rule that says my autonomy gets stolen by the love in my life.

my soft heart was born in a cage, the walls broken down by believers and feelers—touched and cracked open with silk fingers of the sun that raised me. my wrists freed when destiny untied her bows and showed me reveries of womanhood without bounds—nourished by the strength of my own heart.

outreached palms ask permission to hold & to twirl, i learn to dance through the gold laced fabric of the stars. a tattoo of grace wraps around me; love is the wager of being unafraid to live.

undressed and standing at the edge of eternity, bare soul to the world.

so touch me with gentle hands, breathe in the emotions that overflow from my green eyes. kiss me on the side of my head when thoughts never run dry. remind me that we conquer worlds together, not against each other. show me a love that embraces my armor but makes me want to put it down.

see me as i am, not as what i have to give.