How I came to know myself

Faced with the age
the crevices and the canyons
stretched across my salty brow
weathered from too much time in the sun
from a star that I’ve never seen, or been
from the string of memories that have toughened my heart in a bloodless torment of hard slog and disgrace
tired, vacuous, I stare into the night sky.

Roaring up at you, wishing that you could give me back my days lost.
Screaming at myself, wishing that I could have
drunk less,
fought fewer fights
and spent more time, if only a few more days,
in the serenity of your presence
… to admit aloud that I believe in you and I’m no longer ashamed to say it.

And that’s how I came to know myself.