Police stations
And hospitals
Apartment buildings
And condemned spaces
Secret headquarters
And schools of magic
There was to her
A tenacious spirit
She grappled despair
And brought it down
Smothering the darkness
Not so much with light
But with a glimmer
I thought it was hope
But it was trust
Not just the kind
Given to others
But the kind given to self
Given to circumstances
Given to time, and possibility
Once she saw
The abuse
In the abuser
The anger rose
Fire in her veins
Pooled, glowing
As if lava flowed
Like liquid rage
Just below
The surface
Of her flesh
A pattern played
Their brightness seized
Turned back on them
A harsher light
By broken souls
Who feed on other’s weakness
The beauty of a flower is
The life it holds
While purpose lives
Not in its petals
On the ground
Arranged so pretty
An artful mound
Like the waves
Slowly undermining
A steep rocky shore
The tear was wrong
The conditions were wrong
Her love was wrong
He was wrong
Her life… was wrong
And why should it be different
When I can’t love him enough
Can’t give him enough
Can only think of my wants
Of my needs
We create spaces
Walk away from them
Return, re-visit, renovate
We take what was
And make of it
Something else
Whether for utility
Or a statement
