Unbalanced

I hold all the broken things
of my heart and my head in my hands,
observing their shapes and their ugliness,
running a finger along their jagged edges,
slicing open skin and staining them
with drops of blood.

I let them fall to the floor, where they
coalesce into an armoured beast, covered
in metallic plates and threatening me with
its flamed tongue. Regarding it with scorn,
I melt it in my gaze, watching it puddle at my feet.
Its liquid form resembles the tears that fall
as I think of the dreams and loves that lay within it.

Measured against time, like my sin-filled
heart against a feather, it stood no chance
of being near even, instead dragging down
to the lowest depths of a fiery hell.
And yet replaced with all my hollow smiles
and simpering lies, I wonder why it has tipped,
for balance remains my only wish.