we are all made out of house fires,
smoke has filled out our frames and
our throats are held up by burning
structures.
electrical impulses shock us back to life
and the matches flare the tears of
hope and tears of relief
as we watch the paint melt from our
porch.
we think of it as doubt washing off
our steps and sometimes we need
to build off of facts from the basement
stored away in cardboard boxes.
all we have left is references and
yet faith is all about that.
we are all intertwined at the nose tips,
and our breath can been seen from miles.
that's where things get lost,
our tears of hope and tears of relief
are put onto stretchers for the ambulances
to evaluate how our lives are really going and
we all know the weight tied to our ankles are
cords from the light fixtures.
sometimes the darkness can put them away.
sometimes a fire is bolder than
our free will and sometimes
the ashes create history.
our ashes will tell stories of the
tears of hope and the tears of relief
that our doubt melded to the earth
so we'll never forget our roots.
we will never forget where we came from.
the breakers will cause sparks up our spine
but this will just accelerate how we will
douse the flares and accept the tears of
hope and tears of relief when the come
running down our chins and realize how
simple it was to let embers fold the alignment.
this is where we begin building off of the burn
we started with.