Regarded myself in the mirror, teeth gritted. In my right hand, I wielded a pair of scissors, their blank shininess reflecting my tormented glance. In my left hand, I held the scraps of my self-esteem.
tossed among the fangs of the wonders
My religion is a weighted blanket by a roaring fire
if not the sun pulling tears from my skin.
The ache in my chest
is of a bird searching for a nest,
earnestly diving from
one tree to another,
as this has been the order.
Ever green in all seasons
Other plants shrivel in heat
Fall in frost and drown in monsoons
Art is sourced from the respective posts
Reflections by Sunravelme