Burning House
I know that there is fire in my veins
the trouble is
that simple fact only makes me want to open them more
to poke holes in the furnace and let the fire consume me to ash
To see what could come of the ruins
What could come of the ruins?
There’s the metaphor of the phoenix they could tell me
But the truth is I don’t know that I want to rise
I’ve felt my heart sink one too many times
Has it been too many times?
Because theres parts of me that want to believe that
But those are the same parts that believed
I had to have reached my limit already
I had to have pushed myself too far
but still
I have lasted
Still
I am exhausted
Still I am this crumbling building that would be better off burned
At least ashes could blow away easily
when ashes disappear no ones goes looking
and my hopes have learned to tie ropes around their waists before venturing out
because one too many times they thought the line would be enough to hold me
that surely I would crumble upon crossing it
Or at least turn back
but I never have
I’ve just kept going as my whole structure and the fire fighters shouted
And that line only served to sever the ropes tied to hope as I crossed it
and send them hurtling back
And so now I have to wander until I find a new line to walk
A new border to pretend to set
I can stomp out as many embers as I want
But the fire is coming from the inside
And it has to get out somehow
And the windows they keep telling me to open aren’t working
The fireplace is not enough
This all has to burn
but how?