Some Days

Some days,

My skin smells of

Shea butter and vanilla,

On others,

It’s a canvas

For the blade

In my wallet

To explore,

And punish.

Some days,

My feet will dance

To a tune

My lips picked up

On the bus,

On others,

They’re too weak

To carry my weight.

Some days,

The world is a map

With thumb pins of red

And dotted lines in between,

On others,

The world is too bright

And too dark, altogether

And only the four walls

Of navy speak safe to me.

Some days,

I’m a skyscraper,

Reaching heights

Beyond the clouds

And amongst the stars,

On others,

I’m the ruins of Rome.

Some days,

I’m a fire,

Blazing in the dark,

Letting my hair down,

Radiating power,

On others,

I’m the ashes

Of a forest fire,

Set ablaze by a matchstick.

You see,

Some days,

The parasites feeding

Off my soul lose,

On other days,

The demons win.

But every day,

I’ll wear my armour

For a battle

That ends with death,

But a death

That can not be



One thought on “Some Days”

  1. Pingback: Relentless Grace

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