Helpless and forsaken,
runt in the mud
Cry for your mother,
call for your family mistaken.

Left in the cold,
left to die in the rain
Cry for your father,
as you feast on the mould.

Shivering small wretch,
surely soon dead
Cry for your brother,
while you sleep in the ditch.

Forgotten and famished,
all alone in the world
Cry for your sister,
as you shake in your anguish.

Vengeance hangs the tallest
From the toughest branch
I reach past mercy and victory
To pluck it— effortlessly

It looks just as tempting
As any other fruit
It’s a little poisonous
But tastes— the sweetest

Do not go gently into the night,
Do not tell me what I can’t,
For I’m like fire.

I will rise again...

A solemn inferno is crafted, and not shortly after
My bones are chapped, my blood shaking, my organs cracking;
Have I got it wrong? I laugh.
I follow the path of the pointed droppings from the trees
The crunch at my feet, how cliché! I hesitate.
The chill slips away in the night, and the fire
Wraps around our hands – like gloves – a perfect fit.
Life is too grim to live without a flame
I never want to face a season without this.
I have seen the moon dance and decline;
Seen it
Finish its routine.
I applaud.

Start again.
Again, again, again,

Huddled around my ball of light, bonding;
Oversharing. I cry.
When I was still able to count my age on my fingers,
This sun could never come undone;
I never imagined her ******* her soul for me,
slowly, like a neatly wrapped present on Christmas morning;
I never imagined learning how to burn my memories.

I can finally let you go.

Your kisses never showed me this admiration
But I wish you well. I sigh.
I will see you again, in the candlelight –
Only an imitation of the evenings
where the fireflies would tuck me into bed
and the stars would tell me a story.
Goodnight, good riddance. I lie.

the glowing of the
hot embers from
what was left of the
bonfire reminded
me that maybe
some good can come
out of this darkness.