The acrid smoke
Marches in
One by one.
Left, Right.
Left, Right.
Weapons drawn,
Fingers on triggers
Infesting my nostrils.
It scans the battlefield
Mercilessly spreading out,
Invading new lands and
Seizing more territory.
Its first captive,
My breath,
Knocked to the ground
With the butt of a gun.
Pursuing more prisoners,
The beast is unleashed.
Its thick, rosy fur glistens and
A guttural crackle can be heard
Mounting from its throat.
Its prey,
My skin,
Bubbles under its bated breath.
Its twisted tongue
Licks at my wounds.
Over and over.
Again and again.
New scars forming
Over old ones.
The battles
Never-ending.
Please, I beg,
No more.
I extinguish you.
I can’t bear it.
Relief washes over me
As the blaze wanes.
My eyes water
Unable to adjust
To the abrupt darkness.
Now shivering
And alone,
Lost in the black.
Why did no one tell me
To burn bright?
To master it and be
On Fire.
About the Creator
Andrea Jardine
IG: @andreajardinecreates
Currently in Toronto, Canada developing my writing skills and growing an audience. Any tip or pledge given to help me pursue this endeavour is greatly appreciated. Thank you!
Keep reading
More stories from Andrea Jardine and writers in Poets and other communities.
How the Harvest Mouse Came to Suisun Bay
A long, long time ago there was a family of harvest mice. Mice are common, but these were unique – born to those who had lived in the salty, marshy bay for many generations, these mice ate and drank from the sea as well as the land and rivers. For generations, there were only the southern families, scattered along the marshes of Corte Madera and in the San Francisco Bay (U.S. Fish & Wildlife, 2013). One family, however, would undergo strife and conflict before reaching a whole new world. What became of them after is another tale entirely – but this is how their story begins.
By Taylor Inman7 days ago in Fiction
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