Flaming

I am angry

Because I am sad.

I am angry

Because I am anxious.

I am angry

Because I feel out of control.

I feel empty

But also so unbelievably filled with rage.

I have become a girl made of

Sparks

And shriek

And flame.

How do I put out my own blaze?

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How do I contain this?

How can I be made of fire,

But expected not to burn?

How do I stop the explosion when

my flames

meet

their gasoline stares?

How can I not

Suffocate

on my own smoke?

Robert Frost once debated about the world's end-

Fire and ice.

My own fire,

I fear,

will end mine.