we are (not)
we are a collective
marred by the cruelty of someone else’s demons
innocence stripped before we learned how to spell the word
left seemingly discarded and no longer desired
we often try to adopt the inadequacy they try to convince us we have
called strong due to what we have endured and survived
this is not strength but adaptation to not succumb to the death they deal
with grotesque actions
no we choose not to die physically
metaphorically we struggle to ignite our life spark
to not cross over to the all consuming dark
ness like the loch ness monster
our majesty goes unwitnessed like we are phantoms of
our former selves
that’s what they would have us believe
we are not broken
we are not damaged
and with time
wounds heal
we are a collective
with scars adorning our bodies as a testament to having lived
our minds become shaped and matured by an introduction given too soon
but we become genius in our struggle
we wear it like second skin
tough
because we have been purged by the fire of depravity
and we choose to continue to seek out the beauty
we know exists despite the evil that tried to quell our spirit
we are
beautiful
because our wounds don’t define us
they illuminate
what it means to thrive
—MochaOut
(abstract prompt #the wounded)
