(a villanelle)

I was not the storm that broke us down,

But still you searched for ghosts beneath my skin.

Your fears wore lies and called it a crown.

You looked through rage, wore your hollow frown,

And named my calm a cover for some sin.

I was not the storm that broke us down.

You drank your doubt while I held ground,

Yet told yourself I let the night begin.

Your fears wore lies and called it a crown.

You cast me in the fires you had found,

While I stood firm, though scorched from deep within.

I was not the storm that broke us down.

My voice was balm; your wrath would not unbound.

You caged the love, then asked where it had been.

Your fears wore lies and called it a crown.

So take your throne in sorrow’s thorny gown

I’ll rise from where the blame has always been.

I was not the storm that broke us down.

Your fears wore lies and called it a crown.