Symbolic Sounds and Sunny Spots

This is me, this chaotic, confounding, creature of cataclysmic proportions, collected and confined within this container that I call home. I am free-flowing rivers racing into waterfalls and fierce fires that feed on every fragment they can find. I am the isolated shards of ice in your veins. I am a vicious vulture circling and consuming untucked, uncensored thoughts. I am the Earth beneath, benevolent and alarmingly unpredictable. I am the air in your lungs, either acidic or alkaline, but always light even when it feels heavy. I am the kaleidoscope of colour captured in every pin-head propped-up poster or pixel that parades across your vision. I am all the tiny things we’ve yet to discover or decode; deep space, dark matter, dragons, the meaning of life. You are all these things too.

This world is only what we make it; sunshine, stardust, seashells and salty skin. Smiles and sadness, happiness and hope; I will burn with hell-fire hatred and embrace the violent void. Don’t doubt I will burn bright and build bridges but I will burn them too if they lead me astray. I will melt icy hearts and heal heartache with kisses kindled with my own broken bones and borrowed bravado. I will accumulate an avalanche of emotions that will erupt like a volcano that has laid dormant, dissecting its demons in a darkness no light could ever pray to pierce. Do not underestimate a monster made through its own savagery and sacrifice for there is a strength that surrounds a soul so scarred by invisible blades that only spiders silk spun so fine could be used to stitch it. I wear these weathered wounds like a tapestry, demonstrating the blood and battles I have endured to earn the crown I claim. I am Queen to only the kingdom of my own meandering mind but it is a royalty few achieve. My laws only dictate the governance of myself and the respect I will accept for my own resilience. Do not provoke the prowling beast that beats its chest and chases fear through fields no fantasy could fathom, for it has flown far and foraged through thickets and thistles until thorns tore its sides into tatters no needle could thread back together. This phantom fragment of myself, like a phoenix born from fire, has sides it flickers between to protect those who are precious to me and to rage against the few who failed to look far enough to see the truth that lay behind the gentle smile. Remember that though the sun sustains us all in life it hesitates little to use it's heat to scorn those who forget. We are made up of water and yet waves consume us, wet runs down our cheeks in despair and dries upon our lips when we lie. We live our lives and love in black and white too often that we miss the grey that blends it all into obscurity. This world is only what we make it, darkness, demons, depth and desire. Desperation and devotion, gratitude and grace. I will burn with hellfire but to me it will feel like ice.