Mine the depths
of every insecurity
every gaping wound
poke at the roots
pluck life from the clutches
of lesser realities
Stare these dark places
between the eyes
Stare
Them
Down
The barrel
Of courage
Rise from their tyranny
Forge into golden gleam
hands on hammer
and fire
Sculpting
in tides of brine
and tempest
© Elisabeth Cooper 2020
