Talisman

They threw me to the wolves—

my skin and bones a perfect feast for crows.

But garnet pulsed in my chest,

a steady flame tucked deep in marrow,

humming loyalty

and inner strength.

How sweet the slow-burning ember,

a quiet blaze that refused to die.

It turned the liquid silver of mirrors,

those judgmental spotlights,

always highlighting every flaw,

into vermillion light

that softened,

romanced the echo of me,

until I leaned in

and kissed my own lips.

You can call me vain,

selfish, self-indulgent.

Keep trying to snuff me out

with dousings of tears,

floodwaters born of your own sorrow.

I was born with this ancient talisman,

a heart that knows,

even the shattered can be rekindled,

once they learn to hold on to the flames,

and burn eternal,

glowing, steadfast,

and at long last,

there is light.