im familiar with burning

 

my mother is a smoking confessional

who has swallowed a shipload of sins

her lungs are gas chambers

she smokes so much

you can’t tell if she or the cigarette is burning

she's been trying to set fire to whatever has been killing her all of these years

but she keeps coughing up ash

stress has singed

my uncles kidneys

into dialysis

his bloodstream boiled

into a molten maelstrom of lava

fire befriended all of the fluid in the fire pits of his stomach

he’s a dormant volcano

but the coolest guy i know

my grandma is a masochist

for the smoldering swallow

of vodka

it starts forest fires

in the roots of her regrets

she’s been burning longer than all of us.

she wears red hot lipstick

and hates being called “grandma”

she likes the heat of alcohol

because it slows down the ice aging

 

i’m familiar with burning

 

and I don’t mind it one bit!

it’s in my DNA to detonate

 

I don’t apologize for the flamethrower under my tongue

or the ammunition of my words

because i have generations of heated wars in my blood,

i am a combustible combination

of craft and crazy

 

I love my poetry

because it has been the only thing

that has kept me from being engulfed in flames

when my whole life has been trying to pompeii itself

 

my poetry

pen and paper

have been my only companions

when I've made campire of all my company

 

i am a poet

because i know burning

i’ve made inferno of all my insecurities

i know passion is just a flaring family tree turned torch

and i use it to make sure every audience is familiar with the phoenix in me

i have seen fits of fire in my moms fists

so I’ve learned to write with flaming finger tips

 

i am an arsonist

by heredity

and an artist

to the death of me.

 

I love my poetry

because it has been the only thing

that has kept me from being engulfed in flames

when my whole life has been trying to pompeii itself

 

my poetry

pen and paper

has been my only companion

when I've made campire of my company