Wed, 07/16/2014 - 16:26 -- Whesley

The flames molest me
Their pungent lust stings my eyes
Acrid fecality strangles and forces me aground
Caressing tongues of heat 
Skin bubbles like roiling water
Tendrils cling after first contact
Evidence of abuse 
Shiny marks of damage attempting repair
Wanting to slough off and cocoon…
As if to become something new
Pain of movement
Pain of finality
Maybe good as new
Never whole again
Bright light beyond closed eyes
Evaporating tears before they escape
Permanent marks of violence underwent
They sneer at me in the mirror
Anger and frustration and knives
Feed their size and power
Traveling to new places
Hiding beneath fabric of clothes
Or am I hiding them from me?
Told I’m lucky to be alive
Hugs; kisses; told I’m blessed to have survived
Is this luck?
Are these blessings?
a road map of patchwork scars
souvenirs of unwanted memory
Can’t forget 
Try not to remember
Fighting the pictures behind closed eyes
As my body betrays me when I wake
I want to forget…
I need to forget.
But I can’t
There’s no more
Husk with innards burned to cinder
The Flames took me away.
I am ash flowing through your hands.


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