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Ashes

How warm,

how bright

is the light that dances on my body.

What has remained of it anyway.

How fascinating is the fire that is now catching on my breasts,

my back,

my neck.

It climbs up my body like kudzu.

Greedy as it is, it longs for more,

Even though it has already swallowed up my legs.

It is consuming all of me,

both the good and the bad.

 

A heap of ash is gathering on the ground,

some of it has already turned white. 

What perfect timing,

my new face powder has been created.

Finally, I’ll be beautiful.

I fall to the ground,

my legs giving up on me.

I reach out for some whitened product to put on my hideous face.

The face I’ve hated for so long,

the face society made me hate.

Or did society only drop a match,

on an already oiled ground?

 

Will they like me more if I look like them?

Will they accept me, if my colour can no longer be seen?

I smear the white powder on my face.

Why do I suddenly feel pain?

How much did the kudzu take and how much did it give?

As I gaze at the ashes that lie on the ground and back to all of my wounds,

I cannot help but wonder if this was really worth it.

What if’s flood my mind, but they’re quickly washed away.

Swept away by the strong current in my mind,

the same one I succumbed to a long time ago.

How long has it been,

since I smiled sincerely to the me that I see 

in the mirror every day?

I cannot even remember.

But that doesn’t matter,

nothing matters,

as long as my powder works,

it’ll all be fine.

 

I look up,

my reflection stares back at me.

Who is that that I see?

Face decorated with make-up

and a smile adorning their face.

For the first time in a while,

I see a smile

on the person in the mirror.

I can see a flame flickering in their eyes.

Finally they have a spark in them.

 

My arm falls to the ground.

The only part that has remained safe from the machine that creates my powder is my face.

My neck is burning,

perhaps I have a fever.

Or perhaps it is the heat of the afterlife that warms up my skin.

Too late I realize.

How will I show my new face to them who I’ve changed for,

with no arms, no legs, no neck.

How will I get accepted?

 

But the kudzu does not stop,

no,

the fire cannot be stopped. 

I want to scream, but I have no mouth. 

I cannot see my reflection anymore.

The powder,

the ash,

leaves a burning sensation on my skin.

Ashes continue to fall, 

as my face crumbles to the ground.

Ashes the only thing that have remained.

tragedypoem

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