An Elegy for the Death of my Relationship with my Father

Screams I recognized as harrowed pleas were little more than inconveniences to the outside world

Which slept on in steady stupor, chests rising and falling still, amidst our chaos

The chaos of heat and light; the chaos of the chance of death

Because while you were sleeping soundly, we were dying, trapped, acutely unaware

Of the single marble slate tipped over, the domino that was

A tiny blue flame, come solely to tear us apart;

And it did, as sniffles became screams, but never

Did those screams morph into sirens or safety—

The comforting stream of a water hose—

Because you, with Not My Mother

You were shouting, but differently

Both of us on

Fire, but only

Your flames

Killed.