Brave

I see you breathe in courage,
straighten your spine,
strengthen it with steel
forged from an iron will.

I see you drag your monsters
from beneath your childhood bed.
Hard knocks, violent shocks,
domestic laundry aired
in emotional storms of
choked back tears.

I see you shrug
the clinging monkey off your back,
attack the alpha silverback
breathing down your neck.
It bites and claws.

I see you draw your bleeding
broken heart from your proud chest,
present it, gently
beating, beating, beating
in time to your audio.

I see mother, brother,
hurt child, angry youth.
I see your truth spill from you
in waves of masculine grace.
I see you face your darkness
and cause a blaze.
I see you dance in its embrace.

I am not you.
I cannot do the things you do.
You are not me.
You cannot see the things I see.
I see you.

Brave.