by Aaron Blair

On the seventh day,
I became inhuman,
my body transmuted into alloys
not even an alchemist could name.

Suddenly the clanging in my mind made sense.
I was never meant to be soft.
The gears in me wouldn't turn when they were flesh,
because they couldn't stop breaking themselves.

No longer the grinding.
No longer the screeching.
There was a great wonder in me then,
a beauty almost terrible,
illuminated by a shower of sparks.


Posted on 11/23/2015
Copyright © 2024 Aaron Blair

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Chris Sorrenti on 11/23/15 at 08:47 PM

Nice one. A hardening or steeling oneself as a result of and to protect from the world around.

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