Fires of Columbia
Your fires set me ablaze
your glory rained down on my shoulders.
Your vanity hit my face like a bright, unapologetic sun.
My fires set you dreaming, setting the bar higher.
Why must you look at me
Like a real, good man?
Why must your eyes go soft and
Drain my water
Drain my fire
Drain my cold dark night
Into a nightmarish, Birth of Venus
Wherein;
I lie naked on the bubbling, frothy stream
Open like a clam
Waiting for you to snatch me up.
Claim me.
But instead, I decay as I breathe,
I decay as I think I am real.
We were wrought from the fires of
Columbia.
Rage, pain, no tears, just lifting that enormous weight off
You
So you can slowly move it on top of me.
I never felt it, no,
Just your dense, licking, frantic fire
cauterizing
Off my nerves
So all I could really feel or understand
Was you.
About the Creator
Melissa Ingoldsby
I am a published author on Patheos,
I am Bexley by Resurgence Novels
The Half Paper Moon on Golden Storyline Books for Kindle.
My novella The Job and Atonement will be published this year by JMS Books
Reader insights
Outstanding
Excellent work. Looking forward to reading more!
Top insights
Compelling and original writing
Creative use of language & vocab
Heartfelt and relatable
The story invoked strong personal emotions
Easy to read and follow
Well-structured & engaging content
Excellent storytelling
Original narrative & well developed characters
Masterful proofreading
Zero grammar & spelling mistakes
Comments (7)
Sweet and lovely
This is really good!
This is fantastic, Melissa. Well done, indeed.
Wow, just wow, I'm mesmerised by this poem of yours. It was absolutely fantastic!
Oh my, that is a powerful poem!
Just stunning , need i say more sis ?
Limbic synchrony is a difficult thing and many of us are unaware of its effects. In my own life, I've come to wonder, so far as human interaction is concerned: when mirror regards mirror, which is the reflection?