The View from Here

I was raised up

From the dust of a hazy summer flame

And a false prince

And a childhood romance

And a dark suitor

With green eyes and a crooked smile.

Fingerprints have made their way

Down my heart

And my hands—

My hands that were only

There to guide out of

Fear

And to reach out in love

And then to cry out

With words

I had never said before.

High above,

Above it all,

By the edges of the sea

Under a moon kiss

You followed the lead of those before.

I’m a statue

And I’m a crime.

I raise my

My eyes—

One eye,

Both eyes

To look forth from my pedestal above.

I've been here before.

I know I've been here before.

But you've seen the scars,

You've seen the bent back

And the twisted hands,

And you want me there.

More of me.

Either your standards are low,

Or I’m better than I thought.