Sometime,
Before the moment the me I am existed,
I stood there in a dream,
Wondering which path it was I’d travel.
I chose the one that made me bleed,
That threw me into the pits,
That cast me aside into the whims of fools and folly,
I dreamt there’d be something more.
I found the one where tears flowed wildly,
Where solitude forgave the acrimony of the crowd,
And I could sit before a fire,
Warming my frozen heart into puddles on the ground.
Birds could sing loudly as the morning sun approached,
I could feel alive as I once tasted the bitterness of death,
I could feel love through the broken shards of hope scattered on the floor,
Lost, I was found through the miracle of my own confusion.
Thus I was born not to ride the placid surface of a lake I’d rarely see,
But to toss and turn on waves birthed by storms on oceans where able vessels go to die,
Though strong I could splinter on rocks that would cast my soul aside,
Weakened by a force of nature carving the path that I had chosen.
The moment before the me I am existed.
The moment before the truth I am was known.
The moment before they ever knew my name.