so maybe I’m not a wolf girl. maybe I’m not a
goddess with destruction in her cheekbones,
but a fragile thing, a scarred thing. I can’t help
but wonder why it’s a curse to need someone
else, why I can’t be whole yet tethered to a
gravity that the earth does not provide.
perhaps I don’t have claws, but I can’t help
but think that maybe claws were never what I
needed. it seems awfully lonely, forever
prowling the forests with rage in your footsteps
and revenge in your eyes.
maybe I can grow poppies instead of poison ivy.
maybe stars are just as important as ashes.
just because I don’t love with teeth does not mean
I don’t know how to be strong. perhaps I can be
a soft and shiny thing. perhaps I can love someone
with everything I have and still love myself
with something more.
— topaz winters // for the ones without battle cries