*Warning: this poem may contain content or language that is unsuitable for younger readers.*

I fear my armour
I need it too,
It stretches over me, a porcelain mantle,
And colours my insides blue.
(Like skin, it has had many uses
Though it dimples, bruises, itches, and oozes,
Though it has seen a thousand things,
The terror has not changed once)
A so-called love that thawed my bones
Whilst I designed my flesh
I told him no cages, that I grow to fit,
But he nailed me down anyway
In rooms unlit.
Don’t tell me that the largest heart is of a man!
Who’s wrestling limbs shall cover mine
My chamber will change your mind!
The rest was silence,
But my stomach growled
Angry and forgotten,
And my cuts, though freshly remembered
Bled dry from within.
Now.
Now I fill a room with a hundred ghosts
Of the person I thought I knew, or was.
This could be too the last thing I write,
But you stay on my mind,
Rotting memories that retch and writhe
Like I did, down a mountainside.
Love?
Love is for fools,
And we’re all fools
I fear my armour,
But I need it too.