Self Portrait
I am a stair case out of a burning building
My heart, the cherry bomb that
Couldn’t consume the flames
My body is wildfire started from
One match
I am a rickety fire escape
My bones have been turned to wood
With matches scattered underfoot
And I wonder how long it takes
To burn
I am a wrecked car
Covered in blankets to hide the
Carnage
I am broken rib cage promises
I am heartache
And mistakes
I have never been perfect
Covered in paper cuts and
Paper clips
I am bookmarks never returned to
My body was turned to smoldered pages
Caught in the breeze
A trapdoor of faith beneath my feet
I am lost
My edges are ripping
I have never been glued together
Perfectly
Always out of line with the
The world around me
Sometimes I think I should
Just stay home
Like I belong to the fire escapes
And their rickety railings
Fall into reminders
That I escaped the fire
But my edges curled in from the flames
Like pictures I wish would
Burn away
I have a hard time holding on
To things now
I like to watch how the stars fade
Or how lightning flashes between
My fingers
I am a raging storm in a night
Of clear skies
I am the echoes of forgotten thunder
I am sky shattered
I have looked at my hands
Like they hold the marks
To every unanswered question
But my arms are rickety railings
I’m sorry if my edges burned you
It wasn’t intentional.
My heart is an open train car
All of my summer days and fall nights
Having leapt out years ago
They belong to the wind in my
Bare tree branch soul
But there is a beauty in starting over
I am a tire swing without the young lovers
The summer after they have left each other
I am abandoned
With hands made of second chances
I am lost love without warning.
Shots fired with no accuracy
I have watched men trip on my brokenness
Stand up bloody and think me dangerous
I think I belong in the
Guns set out to rust
You should know I am a gravestone
I belong to sad mornings and
Goodbyes with no closure
I bury my confidence in the stones that
Weigh me down
I am no Sunday morning sunrise or
Summer night silence
I am awkward apologies with too many words
I am curled photograph corners
And memories like cigarette burns
On concrete
Sometimes I think I am concrete
Your eyes feel like cigarettes
Pressed into my collar bone
My imperfections like a stone in your throat
You do not think I am beautiful
You do not see that I am
Tuesday night inspiration
And the bridges to my favorite songs
A wooden skeleton
With bones that creak in the heat of
Burning trees
Of when thunder and lightning meet
I am the edges of a fire escape
Paved in chinks and beautiful
Humanity
Do not tell me I am not perfect
Because I already know.
I am so much more.