Tamsin

You didn't swaddle me, Tamsin, you sharpened the blade

In the clang of the midnight, our spirits were made

Your lap was a forge, not a rocker of wood

You taught my terror to tango, to stand where it should

We shaped one another in the heat of the fire

Drawing the steel of our souls ever higher

You didn't just raise me, you shifted the lines

Recalibrated this beating pulse of mine

Your silence hums all the heavy shame apart

A quiet compass to steady my heart

Thank you for being the spark and the stone

And forging the storm that I now ride home

Your spine is a pillar of unbuilt cathedrals

Holding the weight of the heavens above

You take heavy grief and refine it to lightning

Your shadow leads wind with a fierce kind of love

Your touch rots the lies and the bitterest sin

Breaking them down to let vintage grace in

You didn't just raise me, you shifted the lines

Recalibrated this beating pulse of mine

Your silence hums all the heavy shame apart

A quiet compass to steady my heart

Thank you for being the spark and the stone

And forging the storm that I now ride home

Every scolding you gave was a beautiful psalm

A holy correction, a fierce kind of calm

Your laughter flints constellations from out of the void

Rebuilding the heavens that fear had destroyed

And when the dark gathered, your simple, soft "hush"

Rewired the stars in a luminous rush

You didn't just raise me, you shifted the lines

Recalibrated this beating pulse of mine

Your silence hums all the heavy shame apart

A quiet compass to steady my heart

Tamsin, I am your fiercest echo, I know

Riding the storm that you forged, heading home