Growing Up

Will I always stand here?
At the ledge of everything that I am.
The precipice of everything
You have made me.

It's not a wonder then
That everything that I am,
Everything that I am not
Is pieces and parts
Of what you've given,
Stolen,
Broken.

And yet,
All I have is myself.
A mosaic shining,
Bleeding and pleading
Not to jump,
To hold on,
To breathe.

And I wonder who I would be.
Who would I be now without your hammer?
Who would I be now without you?
Would I be weak?
Would I be fragile and insipid?
Shallow, empty, and selfish?
Would I loathe myself in way
That I have never known?

But is this any better?
From where can I measure my fate?
Who will I become?
I am an uphill battle,
Losing my fight.
How long can I stay on this edge
And not plunge towards oblivion?

Once more,
One more day,
I have to save me.
Save myself.

And I hold my breath,
As invisible arms enfold me.
I have one,
Just one,
And He is my constant.
He is sufficient.

-Noemi Garcia Rigsby