It's a fire, a flame that consumes my body whole,
My blood pulsing as my chest burns with the hearth it contains.
I try to breathe, but I choke on the bitter ashes,
My frame trembling as my hidden fury threatens to expose my pains.
I don't want to fall prey to the beast of my mind,
The growling voice that roars about injustice, saying I deserve more,
So I do my best to mimic the lamb, timid and demure,
Doing all that I can to hide that flesh and attention is what I long for.
I feel myself getting trampled on, and I yearn to fight back,
The briars of the wit of my brain threaten to lash out and strike,
But I swallow the vines, letting them clog my words,
Tasting sour blood as I take the hit, letting them hurt me as they like.
Fury is frightening because my sense of justice is rewritten,
And I see all those I love who could fall prey to a fire they never deserve.
But if I silence my tongue, my own heart will burn and crumble
And I'll die to my flames, never knowing what would be if I had the nerve.
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Rose, Prose, Poetry
PoetryExploring topics of love, limerence, grief, and everything in between, this is a collection of 100 poems written over a year. The works both reflect inner emotions and outward connections, attempting to capture the interconnected nature of the worl...
