Cemented Soul

There's the saying, if you break a vase and you weld it back together with gold, it becomes something more beautiful than it was before. That's for the hopeful or the healed, not me - not yet.

I feel as though I'm spackling all these cracks with cement covering up the calloused remains leaving this mummified exhibit of what used to be in a museum of lost souls. I'm screaming in my handcrafted sarcophagus.

I had dreams and an abundance of gold. With each crack I was mending - I covered up not only my scars but my hopes in a thick layer of fools gold. Never treated, only stifled never to see the light of day as I hardened into a Cemented Soul.

I want to chisel away at this gray cast I set upon myself and replace it with a seed of hope that will bloom new life from the dark crevices within me. Show the world this delicate flower with a radiant light that no longer wants to be suffocated.