To Be This Gentle

I never once understood the phrase

“The violence it took to be this gentle…”

How could violence ever make me gentle? Or anyone?

I'm not gentle…I’m angry

Forever the angry daughter…

The angry sister

The angry friend

And the more I went through, the angrier I got

Why me? I’d ask

How much more?

How is this fair?

I. Cant. Take. Any. More.

I never once understood the phrase

“The violence it took to be this gentle…”

Until I saw your trembling, crooked hands as they held mine

Until I saw the love and light in your beautifully haunted eyes, as you limped your way over to me

Your scarred, half-opened hands hold me, hug me, love me

As though you’re scared I might slip between your fingers like fine powder gold

Your eyes, search desperately in mine, looking for my comfort my safety

Not even half a year since

You almost lost your life, at the hands of your brother

And yet not once, never do you complain and ask

Why me?

How much more?

How is this fair?

Never once do you say

I. Cant. Take. Any. More.

Not when the nerve pain shoots through so much you can hardly stand

Not when your hands cant grasp a fork, or twist a bottle cap

Not when you ask me to sign your name

And not when i slow down as we walk and limp together in unison

Not once

I trace your scars with my fingertips, soft and gentle

Going up and down the grooves on your arms, chest and back

As i try my very very best

Not to spill tears where blood once shed

And somehow, I find

For some reason

I’m not as angry anymore

How could I be?

When i look at you, the anger all but disappears

As i cant fathom just how much strength it took

For you to make it through

You show me there is strength in being gentle

Joy in softness

Life in love

And when my eyes lock in with yours

I finally understand

The phrase, the saying, the gospel

The violence it took to be this gentle