A collection of predestined poems that were meant to be collecting themselves just beneath the surface.


2. Wanting the Shine

Sometimes she wonders

Why she made herself that piece of jewelry

Although her dreams are made of iron,

Which is yet silver,

Many times the heat of burning metal has made her stagger

While steam has clutched her chest till its breaking point.

And as she feels like every moment

Could bring her closer to breaking the material

A hungering hope is twirling numbness around her body:

That the picture behind her eyelids

Is not just pure imagination

But the beauty of a collection

That one day it will be examined by others

And adored for its creation.

Sometimes she wonders

Why the process, which is pain, fulfills her

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