The oxide of my burnished
heart has formed
a polished pupa to protect
me from your vitriol and vice,
but still — inside
it aches without the blaze
of zeal and flame in fervor,
as the echo
of the void
I fenced inside
is raw, stretched thin
from lack of use and poems;
this, my silent sorrow
is a prize to pay
for being safe at sleep.
Leap into the Void by Yves Klein
A poem using the word Burnish for Marian at toads
—
November 9, 2019
Björn Rudbergs writings 
Protection from vitriol, vice ~~~~ is it really possible? Thought provoking poetry.
Despite our best efforts, the heart has a heart of its own. Your poem resonates for me, Bjorn.
I love this, Björn:
‘The oxide of my burnished
heart has formed
a polished pupa…’
There is a great intensity in this poem – so much to think of
There is a temptation to shut all feeling away when one has been very badly hurt. But that’s trading one kind of harm for another. Staying numb for too long will hollow us out in the end, no matter what kind of shiny face we show on the outside.
Stretched thin from lack of use and poems. Yeah! I get that.
I couldn’t leave a comment on your poem, but your itch really was felt … sometimes the only thing you can do is rub and rub again
An outer shell to protect what is soft and easily hurt inside. We create barriers around ourselves in a multitude of ways.
It’s hard to get into too much trouble if one sleeps away his life. Your poem reminded me of the ‘sluggard’ or ‘sloth’ in the KJ Bible.
..
It’s hard to tell which is better – being safe, but not feeling, or feeling and risking oneself…
Oh how we wall ourselves inside at times to hide from pain and miss the beauty that might come..I’ve done it.