Growing up I loved
the ruins of ancient times,
everything from temples,
statutes, to stories and paintings.

At the age of eighteen
my mom took me to Greece
and I can't remember a time
where I was so excited
for my birthday to come.

The sun burned my skin,
went from porcelain white
to candy pink.

I visited many museums,
climbed up to The Parthenon,
even walked near the
God of Thunder's temple.

Five years later
I realize:

I am made of ruins too
unlike Athens, there is no beauty
in my external scars,
only shame and regret.

I am the only cause of my
downfall.
I am Hector but at same time
my name is also Achilles.

And just like the old city,
my soul is ancient;
too fragile for my body to keep,
too heavy for my heart to hold.