The Heat of Me

I am not soft like porcelain

I am all sharp edges and corners

I am endlessly rough.

I am the cold, hard ground;

No, I am the molten rock at

the center of the Earth.

I have been told that

my heart is full of shattered ice

But I know better than that.

I am filled to the brim with fire

I am rough and burning with passion,

but I am not broken.

I have never been broken.

I can be beaten, and wounded,

and scarred, but I will not break.

I am not the dinner plate that

you threw across the room

when everything was red.

I am a person.

Do not try to fix me;

I am molten rock, not glass.