Steel Being

I have been burned.
I have felt the flames
Engulf my skin and my being.
I felt them wrap around my heart,
Twisting it into something
I never thought it could be.
I saw the world,
Distorted through the smoke,
And had to remind myself
Where I was,
Who I was,
And why.

And in the days passed
Since such trauma
I have been told
How it has made me who I am,
How it has made me stronger,
How it has turned my skin to steel.
Don’t they understand?
The flames did not do that.
The flames tore through my skin
Like it was paper.
The flames left me inhuman,
Unrecognizable.
Looking in the mirror
Was never so painful.
I built the steel
Around myself
To hide my scars,
And I told everyone
It was my new skin,
Wearing it with false pride
As if being made of steel
Could change what I’d been through.
But it’s still there.
It will never leave me.
And when I am told
How it’s made me stronger
As if I or anyone
Should be grateful
For something so awful,
The scars burn
As if the fire
Has been lit again
This time, beneath my armor
Held against my skin.
And I can relive
The agony I went through
Trying to put it out.
I am no steel being,
Only someone too afraid
To live without armor.

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Guilty

“I love you.”
I lick my lips
As if that could ever cleanse them
Of this poison,
The poison that lies
Within my lies.

“I love you too.”
I plug my ears
As if that could ever tune out
The deluded passion
With which you speak
Of mutuality.

Inside, it burns,
The venom.
I am a snake.
I deceive you,
And you trust me.
Why?
I could never give to you
What you deserve.
You are too perfect
For someone like me.
How do you not see it?
I don’t deserve you.
I am a liar.
But, there, you sit
And call me perfect.
Perhaps you are the liar.
It seems so genuine.
I wish it truly could be,
But I have delved far too deep
Into mistakes
That could only ever hurt you.
I cannot bear these consequences.
“I love you.”
And I mean it.
It would just be so much easier
If you did not love me back.

Opportunity’s Maze

I walk straight,
But I never come closer.
The doorway is large,
But it only grows smaller.
I would say I walk backwards,
If I did not know better,
Or perhaps the ground
Moves beneath my feet,
And I am standing still.
It seems to be
An optical illusion,
That I draw nearer,
And the doorway
Shrinks away.
I will reach it eventually,
But by the time I reach it,
The question is truly
Whether I will still be able
To fit through.
I grow to become obsessed,
With a dream of something
That is, perhaps, unobtainable.
Or perhaps, I am simply obsessed
With the way that I see,
And as I move forward,
Never stopping to look around me,
I have missed three hallways,
That lead around it.
If I had only looked around,
Taken note of my surroundings,
Considered my options before deciding,
I could have gotten there.
But, here, I sit,
In front of a doorway, too small,
To even look through.
And as I obsess over these mistakes,
And all that I have missed,
I will miss again
My last opportunity,
The hallway that lies to my right.

Unavoidable

I soar through the sky,
Darting between treetops,
Shooting, up, into the clouds
And out again.
Still, I lose them,
My beautiful, black feathers.
They just keep falling, fleeing,
Stripped from my skin.
I’m sure it follows them.
How else could it find me?
Eyes able track my swift body
Through the air do not exist.
I can feel it gaining.
I’ve heard it called “Fear,”
But I do not think this name
Suits it so well as “Past.”
Perhaps I cannot outrun
Such an apparition.
Still, there is the issue
Of my feathers.
The faster I fly,
The faster they fall out,
Floating like volcanic ash.
How many pieces
Of myself can I lose
Before there is nothing left
To hide my repulsive skin
From the world and myself?
I have not the time
To fly down and reclaim them,
Were I even to know
Where they had landed.
Perhaps if I retraced my steps,
I could find them one by one,
But eventually I would come
Face to face with Past.

The Scarlet Snowflake

The snow was stained red
On a gray, December night.
Not an hour before,
That snow had been white.

It floated from the heavens,
down, to the earth.
It had such high hopes
of finally achieving worth
for itself or the public.
Maybe then they’d accept
it amongst themselves,
but instead it was wrecked.
It should have seen it coming
when it tried to be rain.
Now it will never
be white again.
It’s coated in the blood
of its wounded other self.
Why couldn’t it have seen
all its own wealth?
Its shimmery surface
with the sun’s reflection
and the sparkling view
of its quiet perfection.
Instead, it tried to be
something it was not.
What does a transparent
and plain, little drop
have to compare
to the intricacies
of a glimmering star?
It, now, forever carries
the mark of that night
that will not be forgotten.
The scar it received,
so ugly and rotten,
will be a constant reminder
of its mistake that night,
to itself and the public,
never out of sight.

The snow was stained red
On a gray, December night.
Not an hour before,
That snow had been white.

Structure of Sand

I stand alone,
Unheard an unknown,
Staring through the darkness
Of night.
A child’s sandcastle,
Beautiful and fragile,
Is washed away
Out of sight.
The sand is left smooth
With no sign or proof
Of the structure that once
Stood tall.
It’s sad to think
How that city of strength
Will be forgotten
To all.
I wish to rebuild it,
Reclaim the glory that filled it,
Though I know it wouldn’t
Be the same.
It would be unstable,
Just shaky and frail,
Waiting to be washed
Away again.

Empty Spaces

I don’t want you to leave,
at least not forever.
I’m just sick of the drama
and the feeling of being severed,
from trust and honesty,
and some of my friends,
who now barely know me.
I can’t make amends
for what I didn’t do,
encourage, or ask for,
so I asked you to solve it
because you are its core.
But now you’re angry,
with me, of course.
All I did was love you,
even though you’re the source
of every problem and regret
I’ve had this past year.
None of it mattered
when you were near.
Because you made me feel
like I wasn’t alone.
You helped me keep moving,
when I was just a drone
of sadness, pain, and anger,
from the past I couldn’t shake.
You helped me let go,
but you remained fake.
I finally opened up,
but that’s when you left,
leaving me vulnerable
and full of regret.
I wish we could go back
to those times we were happy,
just being together,
enjoying each other’s company.
But now you’re gone.
I doubt you’re coming back.
I don’t know how to mend
that empty, painful crack
that you left behind
when you decided
I wasn’t worth your time,
and our hearts were parted.