where the writers are
Inevitable Irony

Exquisite pain, relentlessly raw,
Plague in my psyche knows no silence,
Wracking my soiled, guilty heart,
Tormenting me to achieve something.

Left to myself, I am undone,
Personal ability hopelessly wanting,
Empower me to triumph, I beg,
Slay the feral critics in my head.

Oppressed, I fight the onslaught,
An unmerited pride surges to the fore,
Battle incompetent, I battle on,
Unaware of grave markers behind.

Hacked, battered limbs flail mightily,
Pierced and torn open, my heart’s exposed,
Snipers mark it and take aim,
Air concussed in unison signals the end.

A mist of blood, fine as ocean spray,
My vulnerable heart liberated from its burning,
Thankful, my weary corpse collapses,
Finding my beauty in the potter’s hands.