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Chantell Wild Mar 2019
smoke gets in my eyes
wetness watering the ashes
I rub it between my fingers
there's nothing left
it dissolves into my skin
everything I had, gone
the fireman's hose
waters the flames
fires do as they must
from ashes to ashes
and dust to dust
life will reemerge
they say,
a small green shoot
bending towards
the morning sun
and my tears
will make it grow
it will become a tree
and I will become me again.

— The End —