Amelia James Poetry

sister to “the weight of chaos”

You spun your web of pretense,
each thread a subtle distortion,
a tapestry wrought with guile,
crafted in the shadows where light dared not trespass.
But even as your whispers dissipated like smoke,
I discerned the contours of truth,
untouched,
immutable.

You called me innocent,
but I was never naive—
I was attuned to clarity,
my gaze unclouded by your shifting illusions,
my understanding as resolute as stone
while your tempest churned beneath the surface.

In the chaos you conjured,
I was the stillness,
guileless, unbroken—
a quiet witness to your discord,
my truth an anchor in the tumult.
You sought to reshape it,
to fracture its form,
but still, it stood—
steadfast, unyielding.

You shattered the silence with your disarray,
trying to distort my voice into something unfamiliar,
but I never faltered in my conviction.
Each time you tried to drown me in confusion,
I stood tall in my knowing,
holding fast to the narrative that had never bent.
My story—
a constant refrain,
untouched by the whirlwind of your deceit.

Thirteen years have passed,
yet the echoes of your falsehoods dissipate,
while my truth remains,
anchored deep in the soil of what I knew all along.
You attempted to pull it into the murk,
to question its very nature,
but it remained—
unbroken,
unblemished.

The truth was never fragile,
never something to be doubted.
It was a flame steady in the wind,
a beacon that never dimmed
despite your attempts to veil it in shadow.
And now, it burns brighter,
illuminating the path ahead,
clear and unbent.

-Amelia James