Born, Not Made

Some wolves arrive before the snow;
No winter teaches teeth to bite.
They learn which gentle doors will glow
And wear a man’s face in the light.

You named each scar and called it proof
That pain had taught your hands to break.
I gave your hungry grief a roof;
You took what love would never take.

You knew when softer words would serve,
When witnesses stood in the hall.
Your rage could stop, bend, swerve;
It chose the rooms beyond their call.

I too have slept with grief and dread;
I too have learned what loss can cost.
Yet I have offered others bread,
Not made them pay for what I lost.

You do not get to call me cruel
Because I will not feed your need.
My love was never meant as fuel;
My heart was never yours to bleed.

I leave you with the face you wore,
The tender voice, the practiced art.
I did not birth what crossed my door;
I only let it near my heart.

Have a great day!
Scott