Savior Complex -- poetry by Malena Mayell
I tried to hold the weight without spilling over
and ended up gutted on the pavement;
I have a penchant for trying to fix things
that can’t be unbroken so easily.
Wanting, never earning
a depth of understanding.
I remain unwritten in a sense.
These aren’t my hands; they’re just hands
and these words aren’t mine, the stars are.
I buried myself to bear the burden;
if my body is a landslide,
there remains nothing to steady the load.
So if my heart is hidden, why does it still hurt?
I have a habit of trying to save things
that aren’t mine to save.
But if the world was ending
I’d like to think I’d watch it burn,
settling by the window to see life
turn to ash and gray skies wash away worry.
Watch a million worlds collide with
one another and become the same; then no one
would be gutted on the pavement,
no one hurting while trying to be more
than just a footnote in another’s story. I have the urge to peel myself apart so
someone will pull me back together.
Truth: the glue never sticks for long;
the solace always vacates in due time.
I’m left desolate as the day I met my muse,
plaintively ignoring warning signs
until the initial sting has built into a dull ache
and my heartbeat turns to a rhythmic throbbing.
I wonder if cessation is in sight, but if I’ve learned
anything it’s that the cycle never ends,
it simply fades until it finds another scrape to patch.
I don’t think I’ll ever learn how to stay away
from people who need me.
Malena Mayell is a junior at Corbett High School. She has been compiling stories since 2nd grade and otherwise loses track of time burying herself in words, turning up the volume on Taylor Swift, and running in the pouring rain.