Daughter of Saints

It feels as though I have lost my tongue.
 
No meters this time, no reason. no rhyme.
How funny. I've always been a liar.
(I learn from the very best--
education starts at home.)
 
Why I put up with my own abuse,
who can say?
Perhaps I am a fool for love.
Perhaps I still believe in blood.
Perhaps I cannot bear it anyway.
 
I stay.  
I stay because I am not strong enough
or cruel enough
or even alive enough
to fight.
 
The breeze that comes each midnight
tells me always,
"You can take no vengeance
that is not vengeance on yourself-
you can heal your hurts
without theirs."
 
"You can cause no harm
that is not harm to yourself-
you can give yourself the care
they never can."
 
So I wait. Like a fool.
I wait,
Just as deserts wait for rain,
just as darkness waits for day,
 
for my justice,
come what may.