Darkness to the Flames/That is the True Me/plus two bonus poems (4 small poems)

*Note from the Author*

-This is not a fairytale or part of a story saga. This is my high school/middle school recovery from being burned. As the darkness fades and my time at this beautiful bonfire starts to burn out (meaning my time at Baker High, cause I am halfway through high school). I have come out of the shadows for just enough time to light a spark in the hands of another dark soul. I will burn for myself and hope for a brighter future for myself and others. Please enjoy this poem and let me know what you think. I will continue to write for myself, not for the people who judge based on what the burnt cover looks like. They will miss out on these torn pages that hold the ashes of what I once was written in them. To my inner angels who kept fighting against the demons of my mind, I want to thank you for it. And to those inner monsters of mine, thank you for being my inspiration for the fire that came out of these stories. To the angels who stood beside me while I battled the evil inside of the shadows, these books and stories will represent how you have been there for me-

-And to the younger me, who cried tears of gasoline while people threw their matches; you were going to do great things with those flames. Don't you ever look back a question the choices that lead you to the me that I have become-

Darkness to the Flames (poem one)

I am ready to leave one battlefield to fight another battle of self-doubt and anxiety

I have heard all the corny cliques, all your annoying positivity quotes, and now I have seen the light at the end of the tunnel, but I will always choose the darkness 

I am sharpening my sword with an eerie grin on my face, dreaming of competing in my mission

A flame is burning in the dark

I will keep my armor on and guard my dreams against the thieves in the night that my parents warned me about

They may come in the forms of beautiful angels holding lanterns, but I will smile when the time comes to slay their queen, the woman who scoffed at my torn pages, who doubted my worth and words, who brought me into this dark world

I will dance in the ashes of her kingdom that was built upon lies and I will watch her eyes fill with fear when she sees the woman that I have become wearing my gown of flames and the coal that she threw at me in my teeth

A fire burns the withered weeds in the garden

My life, my fire, didn’t burn my mother, for she is not half the witch I have become

My journey, this darkness that is drawn to me, isn’t my friend nor my enemy, for it is the first step to self-love

*Note from Adaline*

You have now made it to the end and as the fire starts to die out I hope you can look into the flames and see the me that I left behind. The monsters are hiding in the shadows, waiting for you to get burned. And I will be there too, watching from my firey throne. Will you catch the matches that are thrown at you by the monsters or will you let them set flames at your feet? I will extend my hand to guide you on this journey of fear, the real question is if you will take it or not...

That is the True Me (poem two)

That is the true me, with the cold eyes and pale-gray skin.

That is the true me, standing in the darkness, hiding behind warm smiles.

That is the true me, the nightmare in the mirror that I fight every day.

Now you see the true me, the monster the world made me into.

This is the truer me, with a faded halo and torn wings.

This is the truer me, rosy cheeks and with a heart of glass.

This is the me that you see less often, the angel who bleeds out for others.

There I stand, between these two beings, alone and scared.

Scared of what I have become and scared of what I will be.

This true me cries out to you through the pages.

The true me cries and rages.

That is the true me, flaws and all.

That is the meaning of forgiveness, me standing at the end of the tunnel.

That is me, standing over my demons victorious.

The True Magic (Poem three)

True magic cannot exist without me, the darkness that is inside of society.

She writes for you, the ones who see it all: the storms that are behind my glass eyes that the night cannot hold, and the battles of demons and angels within this body of mine. 

Magic never forgot us, though you have forgotten her, and I remembered her quite well. 

She recalls stories of fairy tale ruins being reborn when the line between the hero and the villain blur. 

Magic and I, are this spellbinding tale called reality, yet many of you doubt our existence and this to me is a true act of sorcery. 

Yes, Magic and you indeed torture me.

I am the Goddess of Misery, a Wingless Angel (Poem four)

If you want to know who I am you must see the darkness that I hide in my soul and the ice that flows in my veins.

If you want to understand where I’ve been, just look behind me and witness the cold desolate path that I have left behind.

If you want to see where I’m going, look at the gloomy atmosphere that envelops me as I continue to aimlessly wander and mourn. 

I stand here looking at the darkness left behind by other ethereal beings of mysterious hopelessness.

I feel the unholy evil of anxiety and self-hate that is under my pale skin growling, like beasts in the night.

I hear the tears that have left my eyes that are glazed over with bleakness and become stars.

I am a goddess of misery and grief, but I was also an angel who could never fly. 

*Note from Adaline*

Thank you for reading my poems and please tell me what you think. These were English assignments that I wanted to share with you. I hope you enjoyed reading these.