Exhaling Dragons

dragon golden_by_telthona-d4jpvyo

K. Barratt

Exhaling dragons,

Is all I do,

Their sinuous shapes

Once the home of my hates,

My anguish, my pain,

The root of my fears,

The bowels of my hell where

My demons danced, wearing

My face, calling out my name,

Whispering from the depth

Of my heart, tormenting

With the pitch forks of their words.

Exhaling dragons,

Lately is all I’ve done.

Their fiery belly once ready to eat the world.

But they have released their clutch

And let go of the gold.

They just want to be free and soar.

All the hate forgiven, abandoned,

Thrust into the flames of the

Volcanoes inside of them, and burned,

To pure light. Bright.

My dragons just want to be unchained,

Be changed, be allowed to be more

Than the horror in me, the vessel for my darkness.

They want to be dragons of luck, dragons

Of love -even dragons of spring, tattooed with a rose.

My dragons are teaching me that I, too, am much more:

More than my tired feet sinking over the mud within.

They see wings in me; hear songs in my heart.

They see a life where I can go far,

Escape, build my place in the universe, be my jade

Warrior, my opal princess, my fortune weaver,

My wind rider, flying, high, to the stars.

Exhaling dragons, to save my life,

I unfurl my faith in a rusty, half-forgotten dream.

I hold on tight throughout my metamorphosis,

And let the flame in my core burn away all that I was.

I walk away from the fire, naked, new, clean,

My dragons surrounding me. I exhale, deep.

And expand my scaly, golden wings.



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