Listen to Ivy read The Warrior Inside
Exploration of my former self took place within a dream.
I wandered corridors of old where mirrored lanterns gleamed.
Breezes of a spiteful kind blew out the light within
while I stood still and lonely in a corridor gone dim.
I felt my pockets for a key to open Nowhere’s door,
for I recalled that’s where I went when young and insecure.
It’s odd how deep my pockets felt when searching my insides,
as if the key to Nowhere were a figment of my mind.
Instead, I found a love note signed by me, myself, and I,
sealed with the drop of blood I bled before my dreams ran dry.
It crackled when I opened up the folds that aged with me.
I marveled at my words still black on white—my memories.
They’d cried upon the page, I knew, for I could see them run,
their hearts broken by all the things I’d said yet hadn’t done.
Their stardust, long decayed, clung to my fingertips and prayed
for all the magic things I wrote to find their winged way.
I touched the blackened dust to both my lips and then my eyes,
for if I were to see again, I needed them to guide.
Just as they had when penned ‘neath beams of sun and candlelight,
they’d grant my voice the will to speak while I regained my sight.
I called to the unknown, alone, expecting no return,
but in the depths of somewhere, the old self inside me burned.
Alight with all her hopes I had forgotten in my stride,
I told myself to wake, embrace, the warrior inside.
© 2020, Ivy Blackwater. All rights reserved.