Updated Blacksmith Poem

When she first met him

She thought he was a blacksmith

Shining armor to match a polished smile

He wore gunmetal like cologne and had welded sentences with silver tongued precision

A hard worker whose hands were as rough as his demeanor

A tough exterior like diamond shelled defenses

She saw the metal in his mind

Watched his gears grind backwards and forwards around each problem and possible solution like a broken clock trying to tell you something

She saw him stuck in time

The hands on his watch had been frozen in arctic tundra memories of trauma he cant move past

So he keeps working

Building and binding harder and denser metals to his exterior until his armor and his face are so far apart, his smile takes years to show

So she saw a broken blacksmith

Whose own canvas had begun to tear from patchwork poisoning

His spine was stone cold steel the first time she approached him and tried to lockpick past his gates

He began working for her

Each attempt at seeing the smile brought new jewelry and gems

On the first day she cried, he crafted a pair of earrings whose silver shone so brightly,  the sparkle was visible in her eye

She began to stop hearing the negative and hurtful reminders of her past

When she first fell and struggled to get up,

He built her a locket big enough to hold all the strength she would lose sometimes

So when her heart stopped beating voluntarily, she had a backup

When she first got lost

And convinced herself no one would try to find her

He created a ring to remind her of the hands that wanted to hold her

A secure promise that her future and finger were never lost, just wandering

When times got tough

And his fire seemed to never wane as she broke down more each day

Constantly churning out new jewelry and armor patches for the girl who wouldn’t stop trying to overcome his overdone defenses

He never forgot the day he made her a necklace so that her neck couldn’t break from how low she would hang it

She wore it like a promise to the most beautiful noose

A diamond crusted keepsake of when she wore bruises like body glitter

For a girl so determined to overcome barriers

She had gotten very good at building them

Walled her past off behind platinum chained prisons

Begged her blacksmith to build a fortress so she never had to hurt again

A silver and gold covered knight who had inherited an oversized clunky set of armor and sense of depression

When it was all over, she saw the man behind the masks.

Her blacksmith had stripped his own armor to melt down

He built her a monument. A statue to the woman who first approached his suit of armor and asked to be let in

Who volunteered to carry his problems in each step she took

Until she walked with the weight of his old habits as her own

Doctors will tell you

That armor is contagious.

If you live in a house with a blacksmith, you’re more likely to develop it

If you spend time trying to talk to blacksmiths through their stone cold steel

You are at a higher risk of breaking out in a metallic skin condition.

If blacksmiths run in your family, you’re predisposed to your own suit of armor at birth

Walk each corner of the earth being told to shed some chain mail

As if it was as easy as outfit changes

Only the people close enough to climb the defenses can see the built in protection

Skin turned kevlar until feeling was lost and safety was put in its place

Bulletproof from birth due to a genetic defect

This blacksmith had passed on his affliction and welded masterpiece to the woman who used to walk like the light she represented

He locked the girl who set him free in the very place he’d left behind

Stuck in a suit that can’t smile

For years at a time.

And stuck building blacksmith experience until it's all someone sees, when they glance her armor shining