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Rated: 13+ · Other · Psychology · #1764904
I took a handful of dust from the urn containing my past, and blew.

In my head, in slow-motion, over and over again
You gently laid your fingers against mine
Morphed into one being, we stood enchanted
Drowned by the trembles sent down our concrete spine

Why did I turn into a gargoyle
Why did my surface decompose
You left me battling, a calcium soldier
Victim to my own soul

In me, there was no marble to be seen
I was pure silver and gold, stacked in a chest of steel
Chest is open, the radiance starting to return
I took a handful of dust from my history's urn
And blew.

You know I've always wanted to tell you
You blamed me for falling, and blemishing your life
But what you did was so much worse
You may not have cut my neck, but did sharpen the knife

Remember, in our shells we were bound together
Compelled, unable to resist the magnetic force
When I turned into an ugly duckling,
You deserted my poorly held up fort

Unaware that I wanted my weakness
Because I didn't want to turn into stone
You had indeed seen a gargoyle
But one made of flesh and bones

I spat, filled with rage and fire
I poisoned and couldn't hold my mouth
I was angry, at the world and myself
I'm sorry, I shouldn't have taken it all out

My skin was carved and cut
The rags were hanging from my bones
I was rotting flesh, and I walked the earth
Cursing anyone who'd listen, because I felt so alone

It went silent, I hushed, and a silver dot came
It kissed my blood, and spread through my body
It healed my broken heart and my broken soul
It's the angel who inspired me, the swan I embodied
The blue eyed wolf bared my teeth and I howled

If you return, I won't even have to refuse you
The magnet in you will feel me, and you will cry
Because you can not return to a former gargoyle
If you are living the capitalist lie

I am here, but the scar that my skin mapped
Of when you dug your heels into my dying soul
Will remind me of the pain it is subject to
When sucked back into that black hole

I should hate you so much, instead I fear you
The likes of you forced the duckling down my throat
Gluing trash and worthlessness to my skin with my own blood
Making incisions in my flesh, sowing feathers and lining them up
Yet no one understood why I sobbed.

I was a gargoyle, a calcium soldier
A victim of my own soul
I held on to my weakness,
I didn't turn into stone

My chest is open, the radiance starting to return
I took a handful of dust from my history's urn
And blew.

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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1764904-Beautiful-Gargoyle