Your deepest cut

You didn’t tell me

On the way down

That you would strip everything away

Open me up and let me bleed

All over the carpet of your den

Nor that the bloodied mess

Would be the very thing

To get me started

On building my own place in which the bleeding

Gave nourishment to me

All this blood

It seemed I bled for years

And in the blood a healing balm

Who knows how many years

Or all the fears it contained

Ancestors

On that silent Christmas

You drew near

I felt the need to be alone

And it was far worse

Why did I do it to myself

Because to go back to that house

Would have meant confronting memories of when you opened me

So tenderly like a closed bud

Only to pierce me through with venom

Now I see it

 I am not bleeding any more

There are just scabs and scars

That speak of a deeper passage

And journey

One that was the making of me

In order to be reborn

I had to fully enter

That undoing

And go through the painful pregnancy

And rebirth

That also contained blood

Water

Fire

And Ice

Your deepest cut

Made that birth possible