What Does Not Kill Us (precipice shape poem)

I have been broken
many times in life;
hopes shattered,
dreams turned to nightmares;
faced deep chasms of despair;
tested my resolve to end it all
against my refusal to give in.

It's really not true
that you always
grow stronger
in the places
you are broken;
but you can find ways to grow
around spots you cannot heal
like a tree engulfing the knob
of a branch lopped long ago.

Terrible things do happen
to whole masses of us:
bullets and ballots.
Mourn the passing of the dead
including the dead left walking
yet place your next step firmly
beyond limits of your survival
into sacred paths of recovery.

Those who are
gone cannot help;
only those who are still
able to grow carry hope;
only they can propel themselves
by dint of tenacious conviction
into the unknowable future.