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Description
i.
Smoke hangs low over the fire that takes its victims in an all-consuming blaze, breathing the oxygen we breathe but bringing devastation and destruction in its path. They say it paves the way for a new life, and while that may be true, the deserted homes and the broken hearts will never grow back the same. They say the past makes us stronger but isn’t that a little bit of a double edged sword that defends but destroys with a single strike. It gives and takes like the ebb and flow of life that my therapist tells me about but I don’t understand because the balance she describes, this reality of pushing and pulling is above me, beyond me as it all comes back to the fire that burns me and kills me and makes me new.
Apparently.
ii.
There are things I will never understand. The tides, the solar system, all wrapped around me but so big that it’s bigger than me, my world, my cage. But now I’m just rambling again and putting the periods in all the wrong places.
iii.
The way you cut me is a funny one, nothing like the razors I take to my skin and my soul. The pastor calls it soul pain, some sort of identity crisis that only God can heal but I’m not sure I believe in God and even if I did, what’s the point of breaking me in the first place? I sit closer to the edge not so that I can fall but so that I can soar over cliffs and clouds and crashing waves. But I, too, will inevitably crash, but you already know this as you are there with me on the cliff. Well not really, only in my mind because I keep you with me even through you hurt me because you keep me safe in the sun and sky.
iv.
I’m going to keep writing because this feels good. Names and places don’t matter as I scribble and scribble and scribble away, etching these words into stone that may predict the future but who knows.
v.
The sun is setting and I keep dropping my pen and so what if I want to die?

Description
i.
Smoke hangs low over the fire that takes its victims in an all-consuming blaze, breathing the oxygen we breathe but bringing devastation and destruction in its path. They say it paves the way for a new life, and while that may be true, the deserted homes and the broken hearts will never grow back the same. They say the past makes us stronger but isn’t that a little bit of a double edged sword that defends but destroys with a single strike. It gives and takes like the ebb and flow of life that my therapist tells me about but I don’t understand because the balance she describes, this reality of pushing and pulling is above me, beyond me as it all comes back to the fire that burns me and kills me and makes me new.
Apparently.
ii.
There are things I will never understand. The tides, the solar system, all wrapped around me but so big that it’s bigger than me, my world, my cage. But now I’m just rambling again and putting the periods in all the wrong places.
iii.
The way you cut me is a funny one, nothing like the razors I take to my skin and my soul. The pastor calls it soul pain, some sort of identity crisis that only God can heal but I’m not sure I believe in God and even if I did, what’s the point of breaking me in the first place? I sit closer to the edge not so that I can fall but so that I can soar over cliffs and clouds and crashing waves. But I, too, will inevitably crash, but you already know this as you are there with me on the cliff. Well not really, only in my mind because I keep you with me even through you hurt me because you keep me safe in the sun and sky.
iv.
I’m going to keep writing because this feels good. Names and places don’t matter as I scribble and scribble and scribble away, etching these words into stone that may predict the future but who knows.
v.
The sun is setting and I keep dropping my pen and so what if I want to die?