I began as a thought
as a scream behind closed doors
and they called me gentle and sweet and beautiful
And then I met you
and my silence scraped your nerves raw
and you begged me to open my mouth and speak.
And I pleaded with you,
‘no, I don’t want to, I’m so scared.’
But you stayed.
And you reached inside my mouth and pulled out the lump of wax
that had kept me from speaking
made of the buzzing of a thousand anxious bees
As if they were looking for reasons to make me implode.
And the voice that spewed from my mouth was acid
And everyone turned their back on me.
The process of grief was too long and too sharp,
and my heart turned to iron, a lump of cold metal
until you ignited me again.
I am an iron-hearted warrior,
The ruler of the beasts and the dark things,
with the molten metal heart that fears nothing on this earth.
I was not crafted gently,
I was forged
from the grief and pain that my own silence caused me.
But now I am the one with sharp teeth,
I am the one with a snarling smile,
I am the one draped in wolf fur
And painted in the blood of my slain enemies.
I am an iron heart,
Brazen and blazing,
And I will never be broken again.