You strike a matchstick
and name it hope—
watch the flame gnaw
its own tail, a hungry ouroboros.
Your hands tremble like cities
under siege.
The skyline cracks, a porcelain plate
held together by spider silk.
We are all archaeologists here,
digging through ash
for the bones of who we swore
we’d become.
Some nights, the moon is a pill
that won’t dissolve.
You swallow it anyway,
let its cold light pool in your ribs.
The world is a fever dream,
but listen—
even wildfires leave behind
soil thick with tomorrow.
So let your heart be a dandelion:
ugly, stubborn,
and impossibly
easy to love.
Inspiration: Combines existential urgency (a "burning world") with intimate resilience, blending natural imagery and mental health metaphors. The poem mirrors modern anxieties but leans into hope as an act of defiance.
Key Elements:
Ouroboros metaphor: The flame eating itself reflects cycles of destruction/rebirth and self-sabotage.
Urban decay vs. nature: "Cities under siege" and "porcelain plate" contrast with organic imagery (dandelions, wildfires).
Medicalization of coping: The moon as an undissolved pill critiques how society medicates existential pain.
Archaeology of self: Digging through "ash" to find lost versions of identity.
Dandelion symbolism: Represents overlooked strength and the beauty of persistence.
Structure: Free verse with short, punchy stanzas. Enjambment creates urgency, while the final quatrain offers a resolving, mantra-like closure.
