"Pyrophyte: a plant which has adapted to tolerate fire."

I try my best to fend off
these hungry jaws as they grow angry and lash out,
rising up from the dark to spite
the brave few sprouts of daylight
that dare to peak out of the night.
I want to let them starve in the shadows-
that shady selfish love that could never feed itself.
Let them rest
and rot and fester in their loneliness
til the bones are picked clean
and it can be beautiful again—
buds sprouting up from the wicked
black bones of a fire where once was a bountiful forest
and will be again