Isn’t it ironic
How the strongest,
Most thick-headed
People you know
Are the most emotional?
The smallest thing
Can set them off,
Like how a flyaway ember
Can land on a dead leaf,
And start a wildfire.
I sometimes wonder
If somebody blew out their fire,
Washing away all warmth
From their once soft, pure heart.
Or maybe they’ve seen some shit,
And turned their own
Blood-pumping muscle
Into a heart-shaped stone
To make sure
They wouldn’t hurt,
And never put it back
To its default setting
Because they feared
Dealing with their emotions,
Feeling any or all things negative.
I think those people
Can’t accept the love
Their family and friends offer
Because they think
They don’t deserve it.
But they do.
And some of us try
So damn hard
Just to show them
That they are just
As worthy of love
As the next guy,
No matter how hard
Their heart-hardened friends
Push back.
Isn’t it perplexing
How those people
Try so ridiculously hard
Just to show everyone
That nothing can hurt them?
And yet,
Isn’t it so obvious
That doing so
Has only shown
That the fire that burnt out
However long ago
Is still there?
It sits right inside their
Tightly clenched fists,
Idly,
Waiting to be thrown
At the next person
Who tries to make them feel
Absolutely anything.
Because of those people,
I can’t help but constantly wonder
Why feeling emotions
Is such a bad thing?
And why do so many people
try to turn them off?
As if there’s some kind of switch,
As if we had some kind of choice,
As if feeling things
Are something we can control.
I need someone to explain to me
Why it is so taboo
To show and talk about
What’s inside of us.
And honestly,
I think if everyone kept
Just a little bit of fire
Left in their hearts,
Maybe the world
Wouldn’t have to deal with
So many wildfires.
Prompt: Write a poem—but somehow include any of the five elements (earth, water, fire, wind, spirit).
