I get my fire-tongue from my mother.
I’m proud of the power I can hold
When I spit out flames in spite.
But sometimes I cannot tame it.
The fire starts to roar
And sparks fly as I try to hold
the flames back in-between my teeth.
I’d sew my lips together with steel thread
But the fire would melt it away carelessly.
I burn my skin and take extinguishers to my tongue
Just to keep the flames back.
I wish this power came with nobs
That could adjust the flames from high to low;
But I’ll have to tame my spit-fire the hard way.