it’s the throbbing kind of pain,
so unlike the burning you are used to
a timeless ache,
that jars you to the core
so different from the fire that
you built yourself from
belying the strength of the armour,
that guards the tender fabric of your soul.

and you knew you were made of stone,
but darling, stone always crumbles
though born of lava,
it turns to dust
and how can you be the exception?