Born from ember, That's what I am. Born by crystallized blood, Born with the heart Of the phoenix.
Iron pierces my heart When tears hit my chest, But my pain It's green. You cannot hurt me. When your bullets Ricochet off my heart You will feel the glow Of my strength.
Your words, Your stick and stones, Your will to strike me down It ignites the fire, The will to be ember The will to be more than possible. I am more than bulletproof From your hate. I'm more than diamond From your iron. I'm more than titanium To your power. I'm unprecedented, I'm ubiquitous. I'm more than human. I am the phoenix.
As you can tell, I have seen Maleficent: Mistress of Evil this week. For this reason, I will be making odes to my favorite Disney Villains.
Crystals reflect in my eyes. The color is so clear, so sharp, It's like light blaring in my eyes: My eyes begin to cry. No dye, And the reflection, It tells no lies.
In the transparent crystals, I see the misty black. My horns My raven wings My feathery dress; It's all black.
But I have a heart; My lips are red as blood In the mist of the crystals.
But some bubbling liquid, Something that makes a fizzing sound Makes every color fainter. It's faint version of the hue Of my lips. Engulfing the crystal. Little bubbles, Little round crystals For the cylindrical Glass.
My soul, My colorful yellow-green eyes Are what reflect. They're all that's left.
Youth is a treasure, It's meant for pleasure; It's meant for discipline; It's meant for sin.
Youth is a rose. When it blooms, Its beautiful, rich petals Your senses they consume. You are the sun— Your rays allow for the rose To grow. You are the water— You keep the rose Growing. You are the seed— You plant the possibility of youth.
But there are times when too much water Drowns the rose There are times when too much sun Dries out the beauty of the rose. Like a rose, Youth flowers just like the rose; It there for one season; Then it goes. The rose petals begin to wilt And just like that, the world is still.
In the strobe lights, Another Saturday night, Another party in my brain, Another rambunctious Sorry game, I see your face Beautiful like china, Beautiful as Paris.
You stick out Among a row of men In white collars And black suits.
Eyes Limpid pools Of ocean blue, Flitting from the cerulean screen Glowing against your face, And back to me.
The strobe lights begin to flicker, And the white collars disappear. The world is us If we establish thus A bond, If we establish thus A place Where we mix together like yin and yang, Together like melody and harmony.
The stitches of fate bind together. Warm intertwines with cold. Fire and rain neutralize. And the world curls into brightness.
Shadows. She sees shadows Shaped into the outline Of her demons.
Her breath. Her breath grows soft, Nothing more Than the gentle hum Of summer air.
But her thoughts. Her thought are cold. Cold as winter. Cold as ice. Sharp as a knife When she sees the shadows.
Her hands. Her hands, Once stretched into the light, Now curled into fists. Fists of darkness.
The shadows. The shadows, Gray as the world Carve into the darkness. The darkness of her chest.
Its cadence. Its cadence mimics the song of her heart. Her heart turns to stone.
Her eyes. Her eyes become blind. Blind to the darkness. Blind to the world bleeding before her.
The song in her ears. The song in her ears is a pulse of metal; Its refrain is a surge of crescendoing ire. It cuts her senses like a knife.
The world ignored her. But she ignored the world first. She overreacted, And strove to be the worst. What went first, And which went last Is not a question; It's a question of What came first And which came last: The darkness Or the loss of her youth Is now in the past.
I see a rainbow After every storm of tears. Crystallized like a diamond, It calls me. Red for the flames. Orange for the hair-pulling. Yellow for the sunshine of smiles. Green for every time I overreact. Blue for the sea that calms me. And purple for the maturity of my soul Young and old.
I wear my colors like a badge Because there's nothing wrong Just being me.
Draped in a headscarf, Off doth a girl prance to school. Huddled between two seats, The girl doth know she broke their rules: A woman, A lover of her hometown valley in the shallows, Spoke the truth, And almost went to the gallows. They got on the bus, Oh, yes, they did, Wicked and sexist; They asked for her name, That's all they said. An affirmation—— A reluctant "that's me"—— Then three shots They deemed would be her punishment For demanding an education.
Then, once an era ago, In a war that determined the two ruling nations of this earthly life, Not just one ethnicity was a victim of attempted genocide. Many a persecuted or met with disdain Deemed unfit for the "Aryan" race, the distinctly-shaped mustache with an iron fist declared. So unfit for the "Aryan" life, Unfit for humanity, they deemed So they decreed some as nothing more than animals. A bleak life, A bleak world. Religion, ethnicity, intelligence, personality, behavior, and skin color Decided if one lived Or if they died. Consigned to medical experiments; Sent to chambers teeming in toxic gas. None dare shed a tear for the victims until the last.
Some history forgets; Some history glazes over; Some history haunts, For a life of fear, A memoir of trauma, Is pain of those who lost.
It seems the world has lost the light in its eyes. Nothing changes Even if we try. Nothing changes. Thoughts of the mind bound backwards. Too much pressure of insecurity. We forget.
It's a lesson we forget to remember: History repeats When we all forget. History repeats When we don't teach. We need to think with a modern mind but see with past eyes, For if the future is bright, We must surge through December And always remember. Always remember.