poem - plastic
Category: Poems

I feel like I am melting, plastic, 

the corners of my soul turning black,

shrivelling up, falling off.

I am a wax candle,

already soft.

When the flame is held to me

I begin to crumble.

You are:

solid, fragile.

An ice cube on the concrete of a hot day.

Now a liquid, now useless.

You can only melt if you are weak

but I cannot be any stronger.

It is in every molecule of my body;

I must die under heat.