Armor

The last time that she hit me

finally broke the exoskeleton of my heart

I had built it up slowly

Adding small bits of chitin

A crazy-quilt of polysaccharidic protection

There were often barrages

of rocket-propelled words,

canisters of diminshment-gas

shaming IED’s,

but years of accretion

had hardened my inner being,

I did not feel her attacks any more,

an achievement made possible

by not feeling anything.

Then at the final blow

all I had squirreled away

all the anger, self-loathing,

somatic anguish, began to flow

leaking out of the crack slowly at first,

gathering momentum as the dam eroded

until the torrent was beyond bearing.

I became afraid to cry

for fear I would never stop.

Eventually the storm passed, the waters leveled

and though the valley of where I had been was flooded

I found myself standing on solid ground

surveying the detritus of half my life

determined to salvage nothing

of the dreams and vows floating in the muck;

From this outcropping, my footing increasingly secure,

cool breezes of love, acceptance, flourishing,

flow all around me.

In front of me

lies a road I could never have imagined,

freedom to become myself,

populated with one’s smile as she sees me approach,

another’s kiss through scratchy beard,

a third’s head on my shoulder, her hair soft in my face.