You Never Got as Cold
You are a piece of art, stoic and stable
You tell yourself.
(Maybe even a little stale)
You will not allow yourself to be human
Because you know how broken human beings are
How the world tramples them
Like autumn leaves.
But sometimes, you cannot help it
And then your eyes remember that they are not painted
Your nose remembers that it is not marble
Your mouth remembers that it is not sculpted
And from the fog,
Rises the vulnerability you buried.
You never got as cold
As you wanted to be.