cataclysmic
a poem
the hurt i am holding onto
is verging on cataclysmic.
it has ripped through my rib
cage, broken it into bits,
and laid them before me like
fallen barricades.
it has scorned my soul and forged
a path of violent destruction
deep beneath my bones,
between my veins,
setting ablaze my raging storm
of a heart.
𖦹
and heaven help me when they clash.
when the wind meets the blood,
and blood the burning flame,
when i am near slain,
just leave my battered body
in the wake of that disaster.
let the weeds devour
all that remains of me,
like the wind, like the flames did,
let them return me
to the eye of the storm.
there, i will catch fire
again.




Just beautiful!
this starts off seemingly destructive and then transforms into what feels like pure power. i love it.