That Final Flame

I thought you would be my best friend for the rest of my life,

But moments in between the lines I felt the spark of your fire

It was warm to the touch and thawed my frozen hands

But I did not feel the pain

I didn’t see the red scars

I didn’t know I was burning

Until the smoke filled my lungs

And the ashes blinded my eyes.

You did not see me as another fire

But the sticks that would keep you alive

Until this scorched heart

Became so distorted

That it was the object of my own despise.

 

I thought that the day I ran away

I would never again feel the searing pain

But I had only taken one step

When you screamed the threat

That me leaving you would be your last breath.

And that was the final flame that engulfed my mind

The fear that made me petrified.

And in those seconds before I replied,

I knew that I had to decide if this would be

Just another one of your lies.

Would I have to stay a slave to your fire?

 

And now months later, I see you in the hall.

A fake laugh and forced hello is all.

The residue of bitterness remains inside my frame.

And it’s because of that night,

that final flame,

that I will never be the same.

But I must thank you for this change.

You taught me how to speak above a whisper.

That I do not have to be in chains

To spread warmth through another’s veins.

You taught me how to stand tall

Against the desire to become small

and

That I do not have to be the wood.

I too can become fire.

 

This poem is about: 
Me
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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