The director of my life cast me as strong,
Without asking if I was happy being a fortress carved in scars.
Storms have ravaged me;
Shattered and reshaped.
I may be no damsel,
Though distress is familiar.
Battle worn, bruised, broken,
I yearn for a heart to mirror mine.
Not a conqueror claiming a body he cannot possess.
I’m not a vessel to be owned; a shallow conquest to be crowned.
I seek a soul tempered in fire,
Versed in forgiveness,
Acquainted with loss.
A heart that has shattered and reformed,
Yearning for love as if untouched.
Someone to mend,
Not to rescue.
To cherish,
To grow beside.
To peel back my layers tenderly,
Finding love in the scars.
A love both fierce and gentle,
A quiet place in the chaos.
My equal.
My partner.
My peace.