I’ve grown brittle, inflexible
The tension straining my solid core
Skewing the notion of myself
Mocking my denial
I wonder if I shatter
Will it be a relief?
Will my broken pieces shoot into space
meteors flying past the moon’s dark shadow,
Until they sink back through the atmosphere
Pulling me down
to burn on reentry
The treasure’s lost its color
The gold long ago turned brown
With years of dust, crusted over
Like thick salt
You can’t scrape it away
Rubbing with fixed determination
Looking for the wheat yellow gleam
Of once bright coins
Hoping it will bring you back
To a place when shattered resolve
Wasn’t a goal,
Giving in wasn’t a victory