one day I will nestle myself gently into the mountains and I will be so small no one will see me burn

smoke fills my body and I watch as it rises to the sky-
will you see me drifting above the tree-line and wonder about the loss?

will you imagine for me that my rooms were once full,
will you play pretend and make me a home?

would you dream for me a world where I have not always been burning,
mourn the broken picture frames and cleanse my attic with sage,
rid me of the ghosts that could have lingered here

I will wait there in the mountains for my flames to fall,
hidden sombrely amidst the hills, quietly humming my plea:

I am a burning house;
with cracking foundation and collapsing walls, i beg you,
condemn me

bury your secrets in my ashes and scroll stories on my walls,
build a home for dying things from my rubble

let me finally stop burning and simply be burnt