Bulletproof

If I am bulletproof

It is because

I built a shield

From all the bullets

They pulled out of me.

Their fingers searched desperately

For the metal

Hidden deep in my psyche.

Every word, action,

That had reduced me to nothing

A bleeding mess

Was recovered—

But not removed.

They remain

Over my skin

Armour.

This is what makes me a warrior.

So when they say

I am bulletproof,

Impenetrable,

Infallible,

Invincible,

I smile.

The truth is far more powerful.

I am strong

Because I have been broken.

I have been riddled

With bullets

And somehow

Stayed on my feet.

I am not bulletproof—

But I feel it.

That's enough.