Fear Cultivates Strength

He bound my wrists and ankles to the

Weights that were his love and hatred,

But I was the one who offered them to him.

He cut my hair and he grew it long

Until it was at perfect length to tie

Around my neck and hang me with.

The only thing that he could not reach,

That he pushed and pulled and tried to break,

Was the passion that embodied me.

It wavered and crackled and spit

While he kept trying to blow it out;

A birthday candle he could wish upon.

I granted him no wishes,

Surrendered to him quietly.

Anger stems from fear, anger stems from fear.

It rooted deep in my heart and sprouted,

Giving life to my convictions, my words,

And I could breathe, whole again.

He bound my hands and my feet

And tossed me in the ocean,

Begging for me to drown for him.

What he did not know was that

The shore does not break for the tide,

But the tide breaks against the shore.