brianna (shelikesclots) wrote,

this is the way it's going

(You say) I have a gullet full of hate, chock-full of disregard for you and your soft belly and contempt for your weak shell. I have weapons, have knives, have guns; I have everything I need to beat you down. I have the will.

(You say) I have a lack of care, have superiority, have everything better than you. I have you pinned under the weight of my righteousness.

(I say) I have this heart which beats with yours, skin and gut and muscle which loves you; I have you like my other lung, my twin kidney, a limb. I have a sister with me, with me, with me always, a sister.

(I say) I have my fight, my stubbornness. I have all the hardness that's got me here. I have my twisted hurt and my hard, hard shell. I have the hope that you'll love me anyway. I have the knowledge that no-one else will.

(I say) I have you in the strength of my bones, the shine in my eyes. I have you every day I get out of bed, don't slice myself open to bleed out; I have you in every part of me that fights, like I want you to fight. I have us together against them, just like we used to be.

I have the gap between; I have falling down that chasm. I have breaking bones on the cliffs of your doubt. I have you in my heart but maybe not in my voice, my words, maybe not in your heart.

I have us throwing a branch in the river, trying to pull the other out, us shouting to each other from the edges of a canyon. I have the anger between us; I have the rage we take out on each other and you do too.

I have the distance between us and I have the comfort of seeing you, even obscured, blurred by everything in the way, all these pillars we've built but still there, still mine, my sister. I have you tall and strong and fearless in my eye and I have you weak and needful and I have no favourite.

And always, always I have my love for you like the deepest current running over every grain of me, polishing me into a glistening sheen. But you just run like water, unchanged by my bed of dirt.

Tags: bellybutton lint, things that matter
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