I understand fire, it’s hungry,
Starving with unchecked violence—insatiable.
In proximity to fuel it
Ravishes.
Undeterred by decorum,
Indelicate in its consumption.
I bite my tongue against the
Heaviest of truths
And bury you all in the ashes
Of the ones I've burned like tinder.
To fire, a spark is freedom.
To me, it is just another moment,
Indiscernible from the next
In this world I've set alight.
I understand fire,
But unlike it, I am not limited
By the conditions in which I
Burn.
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Obsidian Words
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I want to grow
I want to grow and I’m going to grow. I’m not going to be this version of myself anymore and you won’t know who I become. You won’t talk to her, or be by her side as she goes through life— you won’t know her. Her heart won’t even remember the small moments that’ve clung to it for so long. I’ll watch her embrace a new life that has nothing to do with you, and there won’t be a space waiting like there has been for far too long.
By Aathavi Thanges4 days ago in Psyche
Comments (1)
As a pyromaniac with a great deal of self-discipline, I loved this poem.