The fire wreaks of crayons
Waxy surfaced juvenile spirit
And here I am bundled up like a burrito
In a tie blanket made for me in the 7th grade
And I keep on hearing the cracking and popping
The red and yellow licking up my yearning
The comfort of not having to respond to everything that was planned out for me
By only myself
I'm the only one to blame
I'm so grateful to have an environmental mediator
Get in the way of myself.