My mother told me
that God is the potter
and I am a cup
but I’m trying to
become a plate
but what she
doesn’t understand
is that I was
never meant
to be so simple
and utilitarian
in the first place
and it’s much
more likely that
I’m an abstract sculpture
out of precious metal clay
and this is my trial by fire
in the kiln of cruel expectations
burning away impurities
and anything less
than what I need
to be pure sterling.




