I'm Sitting In The Fire

I'm sitting in the fire

But the cold, it sits inside

My very bones

the brittle homes

For the things I like to hide

I am sitting in the fire

But the ash just feels like snow

Their complex flakes

Like my mistakes

To infinite to know

I'm sitting in the fire

But the smoke is ghostly hands

They make a noose

And hang it loose

A threat for their demands

I'm sitting in the fire

But the coals are made of eyes

They blink at me

Like they can see

The truth in absent lies

I'm sitting in the fire

But the wood is my bed frame

It is cradle and hearse

For every curse

Each splinter knows my pain

I am sitting in the fire

But the stones are mirror made

Reflected there

In vacant stare

Is what makes me most afraid

I am sitting in the fire

But the flames are a caress

I try to burn

And yet I learn

That this fire hurts me less

I am sitting in the fire

But nothing else remains

It’s burnt to naught

And I’ve been taught

How aptly charcoal stains