Do the arrogant weep over the shards of themselves?
Do they cradle the brittle, fragile pieces of their reflection
And carve their failures into their flesh to remember?
It seems like they would slide beyond reproach,
Into the hazy ether of impossible standards and hubris.
.
But I cradle the broken pieces of myself.
I tuck them under my pillow and sprinkle shards of glass
Across the floor in the backseat of my car because
Sleeping inside, on a nice warm bed, would be too much
Of a disturbance for the world and its selfless to bear.
.
Is this what the arrogant do then?
Do they prostrate themselves with the nightmare of failure?
Or do they laugh effortlessly and spit in the face of the afraid?
Should I mark myself among their numbers or would the brand
Burned into my chest simply speak a different tale?
About the Creator
Silver Daux
Shadowed souls, cursed magic, poetry that tangles itself in your soul and yanks out the ugly darkness from within. Maybe there's something broken in me, but it's in you too.
Ah, also:
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Comments (8)
Very thought provoking piece, Silver! Such a weaving of contemplative questions and contrasts
Well, this is brilliant and you keep managing to outdo yourself, Silver! Love the questions and I agree with Cathy, arrogant, the truly use their broken pieces to spitefully maim others and bring them down.
A vivid picture of the struggle between self-acceptance and self-flagellation. Love your poem, Silver! 💌
I loved all the questioning presented within the poem. It really makes you think about your own version of the answers.
What Cathy said. Loved the thoughtfulness of this.
Oooo, that ending! I especially loved that!
This is fabulous. And no, they don't. They throw them out onto to street for the rest of us to cut ourselves on.
This is an amazing poem and very much on pointe for arrogant or narcissistic individuals. They refuse to see themselves in any kind of negative light.