Ceramic

I used to be a bit of a crybaby.
And when I say "a bit,"
What I really mean is that I felt betrayed
when the wind changed direction.
What I mean is when a ladybug flew from my finger,
I wondered what I did to make it want to leave.
What I mean is that things of no consequence
felt like punishment.
What I mean is that it was
my defining characteristic.

Everyone hated it.

I was told that I was too sensitive.
They saw my heart and called it defective.
To them, I was a faulty product, a squeaky wheel,
a malfunctioning component that came with no warranty,
constantly reminding me that I needed to repair myself
yet never showed me how to use the tools.

As a child, I was told that God made man from clay.
So I molded myself since he couldn't seem to get it right.
I took my sadness, shaped it into anger, and named it courage.
I bathed myself in the flames of fury, and told myself that
the pain was necessary to temper the steel.
But clay doesn't soften in heat.

For what it's worth, I don't cry much anymore.
Even when I should.
Some days I hardly feel anything at all.
And every so often, on those days,
I catch myself staring at the ceramic,
wishing I had never changed its shape.

Author's Note

First time sharing!

Reviews

[barleygirl]

HOLY GUACAMOLE! Welcome to the cafe! Now post more stuff, okay? This is a*s-kickin' writing! I'm in awe of this. You have it banging way out loud on all cylinders -- interesting word construction, intense self-honesty reflections, unexpected & powerful storyline trajectory with an unforgettable lesson that could be different for every reader. This is amazing poetry! (((HUGS))) Fondly Margie

[Joseph Newcomb]

Thank you so much! I will definitely try and post again soon.

[Red Brick Keshner]

Reads a lifetime of journeying while getting formed and kilned into shape. A moving poem and personally authentic. Thanks for sharing.

[Andre Gouyneau]

Hello, a really beautiful poetry, a sincere touching.
The look of the others, being judged, resisting... oscillating between being oneself and forging defenses...
Thank you and bravo.

[Delmar Cooper]

Yeah what she said. Post more.

[Joseph Newcomb]

Thank you, I will!

[Hope]

Great job and thank you for making yourself vulnerable for us in the WritersCafe community. I might change the first stanza just a tad for fluency and consistency...
"A ladybug flew from my finger and I wondered
what I did to make it leave.
Things of no consequence felt like punishment.
It was my defining characteristic."

Just a thought.

You have made beautiful confessions here in this poem, confessions that I can also relate to lately. Thank you and PLEASE write some more :)

[Joseph Newcomb]

Good point! I may have to edit it sometime for clarity. Thank you so much for reading, and for taking the time to help me improve.

[BloopOwl]

A delightful poem. Tone is a little inconsistent and I personally find the text blocks would look better slightly more broken up. It was a really nice read

[Joseph Newcomb]

Thank you, for both the compliment and the criticism. I'll keep that in mind for future compositions.