Done to the Bone
The Last Flame Challenge
An idea, rough as bark, rests in wood — mind, dormant, unsounded.
You shave away a feather stick
To build a spark
Through the curling tinder.
The kiss of oxygen,
A push of breath through your lips.
Heat
Around the firmness of your fingertips.
Instantly,
You light the flame.
The idea grows big
Above the wooden fuel,
Out of control.
You suck the air in,
Trying to contain,
Preserve what sense you could make
out of it.
Ideas in shape.
But it feeds back into your soul.
You let the air out.
Your final attempt at control.
The flame shrinks now,
While you did this.
The idea decays then,
Smoldering, drawing deep.
It is glowing, a red coal
Without a visible flame.
The walls of your mind reveal the stain of the soot
What you had reduced to ash,
Done to the bone and brittle.
Mineral, back to dust.
A/N: Thank you to everyone who reads my work and helps me up when I am down. Thank you also for choosing to read this one, as I slowly get back to the bouncy version of me. ♥️🤗🙏🏽🖤
About the Creator
Caitlin Charlton
Writer first. Close reader and self‑taught critic shaping eloquence.
A survivor reclaiming her territory.
I write dark fiction and poetry through symbol, shadow, and fracture.
Always sharpening the craft. ✏️🔥👠
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