The Afternoon After


I feel like I’m on fire.

I started burning in the night and here I am the next afternoon, still burning, writhing, praying for the flames to just consume me already—please, just consume me—so I can rest

and lazily write some kind of message in the ashes.

Words in the dirt. Poetry in the smoke.

But the burning won’t stop. And I wonder—oh, I wonder—if maybe I will always be burning. Maybe this is how I exist on the other side of the unthinkable.

I hope I can make use of the flames in my chest, because maybe this is just who I am now

the girl who burns.

1 comment :

  • Ruby

    I often wonder if this is who I am now. This shell of a person who grieves entirely too much and still doesn’t have the words to express the devastation that has engulfed my soul. I’m burning, right there with ya sister. Today is a sad day for America.

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