The Presence of the Unwanted
My hands pulsate with
blistering burns,
pain
blotting out the colors from
the fiery landscape around me.
Inhale smoke,
exhale regret - is this
fragile breath what
keeps
me from falling?
My arm hairs are scorched
and singed, forest fire
behind me eroding
entire lives away.
My
eyes water,
and I wonder
if the salty drops
could be enough to hiss out
an ember or two.
My unsteady
heart
pounds past my ribcage,
and though each welt stings,
they remind me of what
I can't survive without,
and remind me
my life force is still
beating.
This poem is about:
Me
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