Zansettsu

I learned my metaphors and rhyme schemes In a sea of broken glass I drew strength from all the ghosts that grew In other peoples pasts I left my church, I left my people With their pedestals and pain And I can rhyme my way through trauma Born by women without names And when I left and there was nothing But wisps of clouds and space I prayed to lovers I'd imagined And used knife blades as a brace But now I'm sitting in this city With its cigarettes and smoke And I wash these wounds in rainbows And the love you said you'd broke I am light, I am refraction You can't cleave the sky in two So keep your glory and salvation And the name I never