I call you out for
helping to forge
this dagger I’ve made
of myself.
I admit my own
role in the making.
I admit to upkeep
upon the edge.
I admit to putting in
long hours learning
to use it. I admit,
I confess, I fully
concur in your
description of my
willingness to
cut and carve. But
this is your time to
say as well that
all the fight in me
would have meant nothing
or indeed might never
have happened if
you hadn’t put me
through fire and beaten me,
tempered and honed
and hilted me, gave me
balance, proved me.
You weaponized me
until I reached
my full potential.
You started me
thinking to end me;
instead I completed me
and now you stand surprised
at what I’ve become
and what I’ve done. I am
neither proud nor ashamed
of myself. After all is said,
I am your blade.
Your cold steel.
How you feel,
on the other hand,
something you ought
to consider,
is rightly no concern
of mine.
October 29th, 2016 at 6:03 pm
Whoa, strong and sharp!