i feel warm and you'd think that'd be comforting,
but the heat makes me sweat and my stomach twists.
the tips of flames strike the edge of the paper,
as i hold it over the flame of a candle.
they darken and curl, retreating from the fire in pain.
ink fades and disintegrates from view.
i watch as my biography burns to ash.
i can't bring myself to shed a single tear.