I have held this question
This thought
Before my tongue knew words
It has tugged at my thoughts
Eternally
As constantly as my heart beats
My essence
Every fiber of my being
Is bathed in black fire
It is never quenched
It always blazes as hot
Even if the outside world can’t see It
Except those times it crackles and pops
I lie awake at night in a sweat
Praying to any god or mortal who will hear
My question lives on my lips
Escapes with every breath
This flame
This searing, scorching
Boiling bile
Isn’t born from any fuel
It just lives
It just is
And all I want to ask
All I want to know
Why is this me?
Why am I aflame
Always
Even when others can’t see
Even without fuel
Even when I don’t want to be
Why am I
a flame.
About the Creator
Vicious Avarice
The ramblings of a man obsessed with fate. Poetry, quotes, and inspiration. I am a published author who rides the beast of imagination. A storyteller. Check out my children’s book “The Christmas Monster” on Amazon or wherever books are sold
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