How did pain suddenly become
fashionable?
The way you remove each bandage
of mine like it was
an article of clothing.
How you said 'Beautiful' almost looked
like you were praising my
wounds.
Blood stains that reminds
you of burnt cinnabar and
your coughing rival.
Why are you still fighting if you
already defeated the
beast?
A beast is just a reserved
nightmare, waiting to let out
of the rusted cage.
Yes, i admit that my aura is waterproof,
but my body is not, so if
you see me
getting
folded
by the
hungry and
clean waves,
it's just my shield being
broken.
I admit that my
blazed lungs now produces
breath of disgraceful grace,
yet that air of
mine
reminds me of
campfires
and fossil fuels,
just like the
beast surrounded in
burning rage.
Yes i may have killed the beast, but
i have not killed its presence like
the stuck tears of mine.
If you see my sword as
a dazed epoch holding
enamored gazes
of other people
trying to
wear my
dress full
of vehement
evil,
I remind
you that
I'm just a
morpho,
waiting to fly
in my dreams
while
being stuck
in a
chrysalis,
like a beast
waiting for
it to let out
of the
rusted cage.
Yes,
i may have
killed the beast,
but i have not
earned its throne.
©sars.
J