Friday, June 13, 2014

Flashback Friday: Self-Portrait as 16-Year-Old Phoenix

This poem is about three years old. At that time I was going through major changes, so the image of a phoenix was simply perfect to describe that. Enjoy!


She scorns her reflection,
frowning at the girl locked in the
glass. Angry at the creature she has
become, with a swift movement of
her small hands ignites her skin, the
bright red flames climbing up her fingertips.
Her arms, legs, and feet immediately
crumble from the slight bite of the flames,
falling to ashes all around her. They engulf her
dark shirt, instantly turning it to embers. The
incandescent blaze crawls up her neck, encompassing
her face, leaving nothing behind. They lick
through her long hair, marring its beauty and
transforming it into black soot. All that is
left are the ashes where she stood. Then, the
ashes soften and become moist, forming
a pair of feet. Slowly, the dampened ashes
knit and fasten the new flesh of the rest
of her body. They converge and form
two almond-shaped eyes, a slim pair of lips,
a small rounded nose, and small hairs
falling over each other, creating thin dark
eyebrows. The wet ashes rise up to the top
of her head and braid fiery red strands
of hair down past her shoulders. A smile
crawls upon her face, for she has finally
eradicated the beast she had become.

No comments:

Post a Comment