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fragility
my parents are made for each other.
they set each other off, they're fragile.
not beautifully, like a piece of art
they're delicate like skin
in the way that something as small as a blade can pierce it permanently.
they're brittle in the way an explosive can be set off with a little roughness.
mother is the match and father is the forest
and i lived in the trees until a fire destroyed my home.
my mother ignites and my father destroys
i am their artwork
i am the result
my father can tear down twice as quickly as he can build
he's fragile like that
he must have spent a lot of time with me
he formed me into what i am
i am his sculpture of clay
my mother claims she finished the work
that i wouldn't be who i am without her,
she isn't lying.
i was put into her fire
you must fire clay
if she wouldn't have then i would be frail
i would most likely crack
i've dealt with her burns and temper
she's fragile like that

© vivi