This poem is inspired by writer168's story 'Stumble [Rewrite]'
you are reborn as a
masterpiece,
life-changing,
an image of
innocence
covered in scarlet drapes
fleshed out
from your mother
hardened by whispers
lulled to you
by your father
as a cell
floating in the
infinite space of
planets
orbituary
you see
the hard lines
formed on your neck like
a necklace,
burn marks that inch its way
to your mouth,
a kiss
from the
devil
who show you
how much of you
can break in
fourty eight hours
--a nightmare.
(you learn to
count minutes
seconds
nanoseconds
the beat in your ears
pounding its way
out of you
and then
you learn
how
to
scream)
they see
a prodigy,
buried in
petals of
pink,
a metaphor
(an irony);
but he sees
a veteran
burned by the void,
a body
turned into a warzone;
and yet
you see a
faceless nobody,
acting like a god,
a player of fate
you are reborn as a
shinobi,
war-stricken,
an image of
broken bones and
bruised knuckles
covered in scarlet drapes
fleshed out
from your enemy's body
hardened by whispers
that were meant
to break you,
to hurt you,
as a woman
who was told to bow down
and
kneel
you do
not end
here.
YOU ARE READING
Miscontrued Sentences
PoetryNo one can understand yourself better than you. But we can all relate to the feelings that are often miscontrued by media, language, and everything in between. This is my ode to poetry, to the sad, the lonely, to everyone, and to myself.
