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?

#mentalhealth #poetry #poem