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. 


Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.


If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741