Clavicles & Rib Cages

Tomorrow.

We will become whole again, having grown up around our persons the resolve to fight the right battles. To look on with compassion and gently carve out the possibilities so that the light can seep through. Slowly. Surely. We will remember how to love fully without expectation of mortal woundings and we will hope in that ancient way. There will be laughter and weeping and becoming whole again. 

But now we are setting ourselves against the tides, barricading our heart and steeling our minds. Holding joy beneath our clavicles and weaving peace between the ridges of our rib cages. We are fortitude and perseverance and the will to always, always survive. Gritted, grinding teeth. Cheeks burning and heart pounding viscously in our chests. 

It has not always been this way. It will not always be this way. It has not always been this way. It will not always be. This way.