On transformation

(a free write)

​There’s something to wearing the skin of another being. 
To stretch their life across your own; a layer that you allow
to become molded together as if it was your own to claim

And yet, in a way it is completely and solely yours
They chose you.
You are the cavern they inhabit
The privilege they offer 
To experience themselves once again
In a new light

A secret covenant, an agreement
that only you 
and this other you can comprehend

We try to make them interesting 
When really, credit goes to the ones who 
Move us, shape us, make us weep.
The ones who turn us ugly 
Only to sharpen and reveal their
Unmet soul.
Those who can no longer speak
Pick a flower from a field
Or taste fresh honey on their lip.

The underlying narrative 
Ripe with only words
Seep through our fingertips
Our heartbeats
And the pupil of our eyes..
Together. Matched 

A truth is sparked.

It awakens and sings notes of surrender.
“I am alive! Again!”
Their own vibrational release 
Ripples into my own melody.
Somehow I become a drum
Fighting for the same.
I see what they see
Taste what they desire
Cry their sorrows
Understand what they know.

Their pain stings my tissues
I wear the scars proudly.

Imprinted with a life
I get to create!

I am ok.

I am ok with this.
To feel another heart 
Is the opportunity to feel my own.