manifest it

everything before you never prepared me. I was taught my hand was rubber, slick-thin and wet, so now with the stone in my hand I thought all I could do was pin myself down. thank God for the I am of throwing the rock. I heard you leaving before the door ever opened. you are the bridge of incidents I had to pass through, beyond you, to see the collective in me. the water is stale but my mind is clear. Goddard gave me grasp of my chains through your freckles, and through you I learn to let go. I am David, hand of steel, rock in hand, seeing you are Goliath but knowing you are the power behind my throw.