Sitting in the Fire
In the crackling fireplace
I sit.
My blanket around me
with the flames
searing the tassles
to a sweet orange.
My eyes grabbing the red
sparks with a newfound ferver
look at the room
going up in flicker.
The black has filled my lungs
for so long now.
Years and years and years
I've choked on her poison.
Sour, dark, and consuming.
I love the taste.
The way my skin takes it in,
the way my ankles, my knees, my spine
love the heat.
It's all the love she can give.
So I sit here in the burning fire
and take and take and take
as she lights the coals
once more.