Metal Shackles of Flesh

Pain

Anger

Shackles, all

Their imprints burned into the surface of my flesh

Metal melted, fused and melded deep within

A core of molten iron, forced to cool and harden by shell of lead

Yet I feel fires lurking

Tongues of flame drooling to get a lick at the surface again

So more lead will I add as the pressure increases

And though far beneath it may be

It has seemed

That the strain just continues to build

And every time that I try to vent it

Or others prevent it from busting and bursting

By chipping away at the casing above

It just worsens it.

Slowly but surely

The venting, releasing the pressure, decreasing the stressors through allowing relief through release

Will allow far too much from beneath to resurface

And while I may know what my worth is

It is not enough to inflict all the pain

Of the molten core's sprays

Unto those that I love, and continue unscathed

So I keep me away, keep him shackled and chained

Restrained far, and although he tries hard

And just every so often, a piece of him rears his head in a moment of stress, and a test of my will

I will still not succumb

And will keep him away

From the chinks in my armor, near where my friends play

Til the end of my days.