A hero trapped inside of a Crème brûlée

is she contained inside the house of

(Pain)

A sugary confection, hardened

With a single

Flame

Then cooled—-like Jack Frost’s breath

She imagines herself trapped inside

Sugar melting, encased, sweet

And yet putrid somehow,

Smoky inside, it smells as though God spun candy into clouds, like folding rich berries bursting with juice into the air as she

Imagines the dry dessert(desert) air

Taking an exhale into the night, with the moon winking softly at the stars, fumbling into a restless sleep,

But the smoky dusty thunder air claps

Them all awake.

Then achingly cool—-

The warm, gooey melted bliss

sinks like a sunken wave of heavy rain into her cocoon,

And she feels light and heavy at the same time,

Temperatures were climbing high

Only to fall,

Like how her father’s falling tears

were wiped dry with a perfect single swipe—-

As perfectly as the chalk board her mother wiped clean as she home schooled her, disciplined and with rigidity

Until her mother fell,

And a silent death draped over the last two birds in the nest

The dome of the encased trauma center

Gooey, hectic

Perfectly caramelized,

Perfect, without cracks——

Until a large, metal

Spoon overhead

Whipped up

And crashed down on top of the confection,

Cracking the center,

And she sprang out

A hero made to save herself

A hero made to feel the vibrations of other’s trapped feelings—-

And her spoon could crack open their own versions of

Crème brûlée

Center,

Ever so gently

Spilling out those sweetly soft flowers of childhood,

And the gentleman who liked eating whole chickens—-remembering the tragic day he won all the marbles.