I boiled the ocean inside myself
until only the salt remained,
pillars, the bones that kept me upright,
the spires stabbing at the softness of the sky.
I want to harden against these aches,
even if the bruised flesh is the sweetest.
I know eventually the steel will rust away,
but I'm not giving anything away until then.
You can take what's left when I crumble,
a handful of dust and the taste of defeat.

05/02/2011

Author's Note: Inspired by a poem by J.A.C.

Posted on 05/14/2011
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