I can touch Heaven, yet only believed in Hell. The mirror taught nothing, costumed in a pyre of disdain with eyes vacant of faith in anything but a deserved torment. “Burn,” it would say. “Burn and know you earned this.” And so my soul turned to ash, brittle, flaking. I bled black on every love I’ve known trying to prove growth, trusting none of the light or wet welcome, inching further and further to irretrievable territories laid waste by acid reason. And then my hand extended from the dark, reaching inward instead of out. And there it clasped a nugget of starlight, a hope buried under the desiccated sediment of unrelenting rage. And there was fortune, faith and forgiveness, the coal pressed into diamond. #sunset #phoneart #edit #heavyedit #silhouette #hand #poem #poetry #writing #writer #literary_imagery1 #literary_original (at Found)