Scars cut their jagged path
like avenues across the soul
telling stories grown to cities
reduced to gaping holes.
I tell my reflection
that she was once beautiful
because of any of us
she needs to hear it most.
I draw life-lines on my palms
an echoing lie, whispering
“Of course, you’ll live forever!”
without having to pay a price for youth.
I scribble words of wisdom
that no one will ever read
they’re written in a language
that the schools refuse to teach.
Each syllable, each song
unlike reflections of Narcissus
leave a new bloody trail
a gash in the heart
a frail little organ
beating with valiant strides
shouting with each agonized step
I shall not go quietly
I shall not surrender
I shall not quit or fall to self-pity
for I am the organ
that powers this beast
a creature grotesque and lovely
a monster too gentle to be at peace
an oracle, a love-sick fool,
with a soul-carved map
drawn over the surface of the world.

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