I poke the snakes who
call themselves dragons,
each time they bite back bitterly
and a bit of their poison seeps into my veins.
My mama always told me
that I was too soft for a world like this,
but now she’s the one
locked away unable to cope.
I may appear unwell and
you may believe me to be broken
but I promise my fingers will break
before I ever stop holding my pieces together
and my lungs will burst
sooner than I cease to breathe fire.