Born From The Ashes

I live with the wreaked pieces in a wrecked up world,

The tears and stitches—a reflection of the Netherworld.

Avenged sevenfold, I am.

I need no fixtures; I am happy with the sutures.

I painted a picture so vivacious

that it turned me into a woman so pernicious.

Eyes fixated on the surreal and devastation everywhere,

I huddle within myself to save my pieces scattered somewhere.

I look back up: the bizarre mix of fact and fantasy, I see.

A blazing fire consumes me, eradicating the old ‘me’.

In place is a woman I have never seen before.

Burnished is her soul;

Tarnished is her self,

Askew is her appearance.

Born from the ashes,

Surreptitious imperfections she no longer hides.

© Sohinee Dey

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