Blood, Not of My Blood

Blood, Not of My Blood

I breathe fire onto cold coals, life into lungs that are breathless, and energize rooms with my mere presence.

Through the discourse of my past and cauterizing old wounds, I am birthing a new future into motion.

I’ve felt it in my bones for longer than I have verbalized that I have known.

And now it flows through my fingertips like wet ink onto a page.

I am always becoming what I set out to be and it is closer now like when you can smell the ocean breeze.

I don’t sink, I float, like I am one with the dead sea.

I breathe fire onto cold coals, life into lungs that are breathless, and energize rooms with my mere presence.

I am taking up more space, my space, as I continue to evolve.

It’s always been mine and now I realize, how truly powerful I am and have become.

How interesting to see the physical presence of my cervix leave and yet it beckons the ethers in its absence.

I am the Universe’s daughter, conspiring to be all that is meant for me.