Fire does more than burn, 

You of all people should know that. 

You, my dear, were recklessly crafted from flame and ash.

You are silence and screams rolled into one, 

Fists clenched and trembling hands in a human being. 

Your fire was only ever well behaved in your mind, 

A bed of iron.

But should the wind call for your flame, 

And earth beckon your delicate spark, 

You shall ignite the sky and outshine the stars. 

And now the sky is on fire. 

Your flames burned like a bad temper, red and orange 

Leaping as if you had a terrible anger 

Towards who I was. 

They burned me 

And the liveliness was wrung from my body; 

Only ashes remained. 

Beautiful ribbons of light 

Took away from me my prized possessions, 

Those I most wished to share with others, 

The laughter on my tongue, 

My loving beating heart, 

And the stars in my eyes. 

You have taken what was sacred to me 

And cast it in the sky like confetti. 

Now I will stand on the ashes and pray 

For the spirits of my soul that used to dwell within me. 

The spirits stripped of flesh 

And scorched to the bone, 

Hoping that wherever they are they are happier than me. 

I shall weep for the blackened body of my soul, 

Scorched bones of my spirit, 

And unsettled whimpers of my heart, 

All taken before their time. 

My soul will shake for my skeletal remains, 

Rooted in the barren soil and ash, 

As they reach out in desperation, 

Hoping to latch onto reality, 

And to be whole again. 

And while months shall pass,

My body will never regrow, 

And will never forget the fire,

Your fire, 

That turned it a crude, awkward grey.

Image courtesy of Wikimedia Commons.