Obsidian

By Lily Marvin '22

steel plates of rusted brown
push through my heart
of fire
the cage of vines
that encased it
peeling away
the
ashes falling down
and everything
coming to a close
tiptoeing one moment
leaping in the next
the ashes trickle
the ashes float
with blotches of red
passing them
all the way
to the ground
falling from the
gaping hole in my chest
 
slap a band-aid
on
and you’re all set
here have a sip
a taste of water
with
a hint of
care
but there’s nothing to rebuild
there’s nothing to heal
i swear
i’ve got deja’vu
the obsidian has already shattered
my defenses never mattered
they’ve sunk
into the ground
among fragments of
black and dust
among speckles of
red and cinder
broken down
and torn into pieces
with every moment
and every
reiteration
 
the band-aid doesn’t
stick
i don’t think it ever
would have
so that is the end
this is that time
 
a final goodbye
despite how my heart might
cry