gifted

they told me to carve away the world

to clasp the light in my hand and bend it

into a impossible, misshapen throne

& so my youth colored in its own blades

some crumpled papers, the sleepless nights

they all gutted my battle scars of pride

while sighs of admiration became my drug

its vials shoved down my quivering throat

the word genius conjures up images

of graying men in faded articles

such heavy colors for a light girl

such ancient chains for unbroken wrists

i played with numbers, fixed circuits

waiting for the lightbulb to turn on

but really, i was an actress all along

scripted by silver, confined by gold

i paraded amongst novelties like me,

trapped in a prison of gilded glass

later smashed to pieces by a scythe

a scythe tired of reaping a barren harvest

failure

failure is the death of a shooting star

a jealous, masquerading meteorite

shelved away in archives of earth

a last sparkle before the stillness

before it shatters with the pain of promise

slowly, a final fragment of beauty hails

lonely amidst a broken winter

words are hurled stony and sharp

from voices formerly beloved

shattering my forgotten psyche

blurring together scarlet screams

disappointment, resentment, anger

such emotions flex their claws bitterly

claws stronger than my will to destroy them

i remain a prisoner of my own mind

my palms glistening with sweat

ready to be slashed and split open

almost like the condensation foaming

on my empty, soured praises

my blood christens the unmarked grave

& my breath stains the flowers laid upon it

ching chong

i saw his voice before i heard it

a voice that echoed and chased

like a tiger hunting a little fly

his fingers, so lithe and pale

crawled to his ocean eyes

for a chance, i thought him beautiful

until his sapphires were sheathed away

by two ivory-skinned scabbards

in a mockery of my thin opals

daughter

the word itself is an eternal bond

a willed promise to love and obey

these two humans who thrust life upon me

whose names glint forever on my neck

it is strange how many secrets i lock away

from those who melted the key into tears,

forbidden tears to polish ancestral jewels

it is strange that no matter how many years we share,

i will always be their prized jade daughter,

an only child who fades faster than the night

yet no matter how deep their words pierce

or how those same words weigh down my belly

or how a kiss from another girl would crumble us

my honor is theirs; my love is certainly theirs

everything i am, was, and will ever be is theirs.