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I took a handful of dust from the urn containing my past, and blew. |
In my head, in slow-motion, over and over again You gently laid your fingers against mine Morphed into one being, we stood enchanted Drowned by the trembles sent down our concrete spine Why did I turn into a gargoyle Why did my surface decompose You left me battling, a calcium soldier Victim to my own soul In me, there was no marble to be seen I was pure silver and gold, stacked in a chest of steel Chest is open, the radiance starting to return I took a handful of dust from my history's urn And blew. You know I've always wanted to tell you You blamed me for falling, and blemishing your life But what you did was so much worse You may not have cut my neck, but did sharpen the knife Remember, in our shells we were bound together Compelled, unable to resist the magnetic force When I turned into an ugly duckling, You deserted my poorly held up fort Unaware that I wanted my weakness Because I didn't want to turn into stone You had indeed seen a gargoyle But one made of flesh and bones I spat, filled with rage and fire I poisoned and couldn't hold my mouth I was angry, at the world and myself I'm sorry, I shouldn't have taken it all out My skin was carved and cut The rags were hanging from my bones I was rotting flesh, and I walked the earth Cursing anyone who'd listen, because I felt so alone It went silent, I hushed, and a silver dot came It kissed my blood, and spread through my body It healed my broken heart and my broken soul It's the angel who inspired me, the swan I embodied The blue eyed wolf bared my teeth and I howled If you return, I won't even have to refuse you The magnet in you will feel me, and you will cry Because you can not return to a former gargoyle If you are living the capitalist lie I am here, but the scar that my skin mapped Of when you dug your heels into my dying soul Will remind me of the pain it is subject to When sucked back into that black hole I should hate you so much, instead I fear you The likes of you forced the duckling down my throat Gluing trash and worthlessness to my skin with my own blood Making incisions in my flesh, sowing feathers and lining them up Yet no one understood why I sobbed. I was a gargoyle, a calcium soldier A victim of my own soul I held on to my weakness, I didn't turn into stone My chest is open, the radiance starting to return I took a handful of dust from my history's urn And blew. |