The Warrior
I can see a galaxy in her eyes
Her iris surrounds her pupil like stellar remnants to a black hole
And the intricate pattern represents billions and billions of stars
surrounded by billions and billions of planets
Her eyes are my home
I can see struggle in her smile
The way her face lights up
Eyes like crescent moons framing her cheekbones
Lips parting as her radiance emerges
A sunrise from a balcony in the heart of New York City
With the sunrise comes shadows
In these shadows lurk
All the tear stained cheeks
Flush red faces
Doors slammed
Friends ignored not out of spite but out of the inability to say "hi"
Her silence is a loud burden baring heavy on her back
But I can hear her laugh
Her laugh is a story
Telling the tale of ice cream for dinner
Writing essays at 2 AM with nothing but the light of her florescent computer screen and the full moon
Dancing to 80s music in the kitchen on a Saturday night
Her laugh is my story
Her heartbeat
A pace maker to the rhythm she taps with her on the table
in the diner that I told her I loved her for the first time
Eyes gazing dreamily out the window
Searching for the galaxies that I cannot fathom
Each heartbeat signifies a battle won in her war We fight together
Each breath is her call to arms
A battlecry
I tell her she is a Warrior
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