I stand beside
The burning remains
Of my past life.
Every broken promise,
Every lie,
Every insult,
He ever hurled at me.
His t-shirts
I slept in,
Photographs
Of smiling faces
With dead eyes.
The flames
Melt the flesh
From his face.
It bubbles
And wrinkles
And sinks into itself,
Disappearing into ash.
I smirk,
The lighter fluid in my hand.
I recall
Every tear,
Especially the last.
I stoke the fire
Add more accelerant,
Stir it around,
Laugh.
Adrenaline grips me.
That broken,
Beaten-down girl
From 3 months ago
Is aflame.
She is destructive
And powerful
And uncontainable.
She is an inferno,
Devouring herself,
To emerge
Reborn.
I stand amidst the sparks,
Breathe in the smoke,
Admire the ashes.
The carnage is beautiful.
I have become the blaze.
Reblogged this on Claire Lindsay and commented:
Powerful. Beautiful.
Thank you so much, doll!
I will always love this post!
So powerful indeed. This was the day you reclaimed your individuality. You are strong. You are a fighter. You may look back occasionally, but you will never go back and for that I am thankful.