Katrina Kaye

There is a problem 
with becoming a warrior; 

a sense of posture and 
responsibility once 
established is near 
impossible to slouch. 

Despite the tattoos, 
scars, and harsh vocabulary 
there are grenades 
crumbling in my chest. 

I carved a line that 
cannot be uncrossed. 
This shield can’t be dropped 
for fear of an exposed vein. 

My bow ever present 
for fear of an empty hand; 
the lullabies I forever 

hummed by heart have 
turned too sweet to pass through  
these split lips. 

The child sacrificed is hollering 
through bones, rattling through 
circulation. 

It has been years 
since the perfection of childhood, 
yet I still curl like innocence 
into the corners of my bed, 
lying still so as not to be found. 

“Warrior” is previously published in September (2014).