I am forged in a ceramic kiln, and the sweltering heat embrittles me. their withering stares set the kiln ablaze, expecting me to stay rigid and brittle. I attempted to constrict and be good, but the fire slowly cracked me. the heat still scorches my pieces, but each piece inches closer to the outskirts of the kiln so I can find the sticky glue and put myself back together.
Escapril Day 20! Prompt: trying to be good. I had a few ideas for this poem, but I wanted to use one major theme. I hope you enjoy this one! I loved writing it.
You invited them in You let them at your table You let their child play with yours You let their cat near your dog You let them wine and dine on your account You let them bind you and your spouse You let them put a gun to your head You let them put your child to bed You let them take you to their car You knew what they wanted You knew you had the answers You knew it was your fault At least one of these is a lie Can you tell which is which?