Bravery | Personal Write

Bravery

They will say they cannot see you
Even as you see them and want to breathe
The air they claim, that seems sweet
Until you inhale and find it not your own;
Moving into your own oxygen sometimes hurts.

They will say they all are different
Even as you know in your heart what you share
And wish to share in return. In fear
They seize on differences, growing smaller
While you grow wise, taught by pain and confusion.

They say they don’t understand you
Even as you seek to be understood, and find
The target moves again and again. False goal.
Sometimes understanding and acceptance are gifts
To be opened in the future. Know this: they will come.

I want to fight these battles for you, sparing you
Pain and uncertainty, reconciling the world’s
Jagged edges so that they do not wound a son I love.
That I cannot do this wounds me further, even as
I still walk on broken glass. I know where to step.

Some day you will see these wounds as a bridge
To the world you know and cherish, when they
Have become part of who you are, rather than
Something biting, sharp and new. You will then
Turn and love the world through the wounds you now fear.

And this is where hope strains at its tether: that you see
The world with eyes others cannot use, breathe
Air that is truly your own, and touch scars gifted
By shallowness and fear with fingers that caress
Your own heart with love, even as you turn towards the stars.