You want to roast me like an eggplant, all brittle flakes and bleeding oil, as if that puckered off-white skin underneath reveals significant sins. But I'm a goddamn diamond. Not rare or edible or remotely useful, you'll only find the stubborn carbon Hollywood calls beautiful. They fail to mention, or maybe you forgot, I was born bearing the earth on my back and my crucible of 2000 degrees makes your stove look like a nightlight.
So if you want to cut me to watch me break, be careful - I'll shatter your knife.
YOU ARE READING
Shy Anger
PoesiaA collection of poems digging into the emotions and experiences that we sometimes try to hide - from love to anxiety to anger and disappointment.
