I was born in a thunderstorm and you were born
while the sun kissed the morning skies. we are not
the same creatures but we breathe the same air
and if I could give you my lightning temper or my
storm-cloud courage to shield yourself
the only thing stronger than the force I keep trapped
behind my teeth, in my fists, between my ribs
is the way you look at me and say, “I can’t leave.”
thunder cracks the sky and I am helpless to stop the downpour.
we are not eternal. we are not unbreakable.
I’ve watched you shatter when you hit the carpet
how can you ask why I’m afraid to let you hit cement?