The Wild Blood

She does not sit on a throne of moss,

nor does she hide in the dark of the woods.

She is the red muscle of the pomegranate,

the sharp, salt taste of the wave before it breaks.

She is the hunger that wakes the wolf,

the fierce, green lightning split inside the seed,

the unstoppable urge of the river

to carve its name into the stone.

You do not have to kneel to her in the forest.

You only have to listen to the hard thud of your own heart,

which is her fist knocking against your ribs,

demanding to be let out.

She is the beauty that has never known a master,

the wild, unbroken current running through your veins.

You cannot cage her, and you cannot lose her—

for you are the weapon she made

to defend her own wild earth.

The Beauty of a Switchblade will always be a free space to read and rest. If these words found a home in you, you can hold the physical weight of my journey in your hands. My debut collection of prose-poetry and original illustrations, Where the Broken Light Falls, is now available on Amazon.

Hold the Light — Order the Book Here