I am the whisper in the storm,
Unyielding heart, unshaped, unworn.
Forged in fire, not by flame,
You try to break me—still, I remain.

You think I'm crying in the rain?
Nay-that's just vodka hiding pain
You call me fragile, thin, and slight,
But I am built from silent might.
Your words are bullets, sharp and cold,
Yet I don’t crack—I only mold.

Beneath the skin, beneath the pain,
Runs something you can't ever chain.
Not steel, not glass, not silver sheen—
But something stronger, yet unseen.

My heart's a vault, my soul's on lease,
My coping skills? A masterpiece.
Therapist says, “You’re quite the case,”
I said, “Thanks—trauma built this face

I bend, I sway, I sometimes fall,
But I rise harder through it all.
So fire your doubts, your fear, your scorn—
From pressure, something rare is born.

You can’t break me, I’ve been there—
Rock bottom’s got a cozy chair.
Burned out twice and still I rise,
Like a roach in the apocalypse—surprise!

I am not hollow, nor a dream—
I am the truth behind the gleam.
Call me armor, call me flame,
But know this strength has earned its name.

So here I stand, titanium-clad,
Unhinged, sarcastic, slightly mad.
Resilient, jaded, battle-scarred—
Life tried to kill me… forgot I’m hard.

I am titanium.

Adapted from Roses on Ashes by Par Excellence