Heart of a Phoenix Stone

No amount of writing would bring myself back, 

yet here I am.

I write and write and write.

I come up with metaphors to describe what hating myself feels like

because I have no other way to express this burning spite.

 

Like the ashes, I fall-

I fall deeper in love with nothing at all,

but like the phoenix,

I rise.

I will rise from my demise.

 

 

This poem is about: 
Me

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