An Anthem For Everyone Who Keeps Loving And Trusting No Matter What

An anthem for all the messy lovers,
for all the bleeding hopefuls
who somehow spin silk from the torn bits left behind,
can find beauty in the dirty parts, like scars and bruises.
Those strangers don’t understand how you do it,
you walk into the river and wash your hands of the disappointment,
the prior hurt,
you cleanse yourself and make room to do it
all over again,
if you must,
if that’s how it will go.
Those strangers don’t understand how you do it,
so they’ll snicker and judge.
They’ll call you the fool for loving twice,
or three times,
four.
They’ll call your tenderness something else,
won’t see how luminescent it is.

I am sorry they mistook your kindness
for weakness,
Don’t they know?
It takes a strong heart to pump
all this blood,
all this trying,
all this willingness
to be open
when everyone around
is trying to force you closed.

You warrior with a purple heart.
You lover with a Grand Canyon of possibility.
There is so much space in you.
That’s a good thing.
That’s beautiful.