Metal

a storm rages on
recession, regression, regret
there was a softer way I could've chosen
a path without thunder or brambles or thorns
but I am finding the metal of me

wind rips away hair
rending flesh from skeleton
exposing sinew, bone and organ
to the elements of fate
there is no shelter here
I will find the metal of me

unsure, insecure, scrambled footing
in the screaming gall
one surety ripped away from another
counting lightning strikes inside the silence
will I be steel, or silver, or gold when this is through?
already my reflection is a brass-filled stranger



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