purpose

the purpose of me continues

to shapeshift and I’m still finding my

footing in this weird dance, after he

spun me around so

severely, toes tripping

over themselves, bruised.

my purpose once was leaning into him

walking beside, cheering,

loving as he

struggled

home to himself

but when he pushed me away I

found I’d lost

myself too.

my purpose then became keeping

air in my lungs, not losing

the will to keep on

keep on

keep on drawing the breath in

even as it scraped my throat raw

blood protesting.

and then, there were soft

paws and eyes looking up

adoringly, believing I would

stay as an undeniable reality and my

universe revolved around wet nose and

kisses when I came home and

a wild heart which wouldn’t understand if

one day I just didn’t show–

and a little purpose returned like a

kite reeled in by string

back to the unsteady hands of a child–

to protect her.

and then, you came along.

green eyes and gentle palms and

not forbidden lips I could kiss and you never

drew back, pressing closer

closer, closer

until I could feel my own heartbeat again

pressed against you.

and a little more of the

purpose of me returned

like sand trickling into an hourglass–

to love you.

and now, ring on my finger

pup at my side

I wonder where this purpose

will lead me next, what part of me

will be returned

or uncovered,

perhaps next I will learn

to have a purpose

just

and only

for me.

– 2/18

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