Ember

I wrote this years ago. But I wanted to get it up here to share with a friend, but shedding faith is a pretty painful process.

She’s made of fire and glass,
They say. Nothing but contradictions
That look good in low cut shirts;
 Having left everything that
Stabilized her behind In the dust of
Half-assed memories
And a religion that fit like a corset
and rendered her in grey-scale
with a pathetic attempt
at living in a lie with stained glass.
The first color she truly saw was a virginal purple
when she was fucked
by the man who cut her puppet strings -
setting her free.

Author's Note

I wrote this in college when I was in the height of my angst.

the more I read this the more I HATE the last few lines...
suggestions?

Reviews

[Matthew vonHone]

It is a sort of jarring ending, but it reads like the utter truth. If the work is true, then there is no "fixing" it. Best to just go with it. I once use the word 'Rape' in a poem about winter ... caught a lot of flack over the word ... but the work doesn't work without it. I usually write prose, but from time to time I will dabble in poetry because poetry ... and song ... are mostly about one truth or another and I'm really into that. I really liked this one. Keep up the good work.

Cheers,
Matt

[Sami Khalil]

"a religion that fit like a corset
and rendered her in grey-scale
with a pathetic attempt
at living in a lie with stained glass. "

A very good write...:)..................

[zainul]

I have to read it more to understand the better side of the piece.