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Steel Door

Writer's picture: the graveyard zinethe graveyard zine

*Signs* For a moment I’ll close my eyes, falling as I lean back, on the heels of my feet now

I turn toward the door and slowly succumb to pieces

Steel, durable and handy, strong, something I find when my weakness creeps on me, when the guilt eats into me

I’ll rely on it because I’m so frail, my knees can give out any moment, and you wouldn’t hear a peep

I crumble apart behind curtains where you can’t see my pain

Not steel, iron, or metal, only bone

Glass shards pierced into the roots of love I grew just for

But if I could be steel, maybe I could be the braver parts of me, maybe if steel touches this skin, it’ll reach bone and then it’d touch the core

Then I could open my doors, the rest of fear wouldn’t have a place to hide anymore

Though of course nobody wants to know what’s behind a steel door when a stone heart is what they see

So clearly until it turns blurry

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