She

She
Who holds my hand
Lifts me from the fall
Wipes away the grit
Cleans my scuffed, raw knees
Blood, sick and tears

Be it all
I owe her
A thank you
Would do

She
Who tries to understand my thoughts
Wills to protect my health, my soul
From poison
Bruising
Scrapes her own knees in the fight
Brakes her own heart in the trial
Between what I am
And who I'd like to be

Be it all
I owe her
A hug, a kiss
Could do

She
Told herself she wasn't good enough
Listened to my lashing tongue
Held the words like knives
In her stomach
Made herself sick in the strife
To protect the life
She created

Be it all
I owe her
A sorry
Will do

She
May never yet understand my brain
Tries relentlessly
To heal
To ease my pain
Still stands behind
My every step forwards
Backwards
Still holds my beating heart in her hands
Wherever I go
And vows
Never to let go

She
Be it all
I owe her
I'm sorry
Would help

I love you
Could be
The greatest gift
To her
From me

She.



Shay Crinkle 2015