To Build a Fire...

Elusive embers, Why does your fire not burn for me? So many others cloaked in vibrant warmth Yet here I sit on the cold dark edge of sanity Gazing into an empty blackened hearth Filled repeatedly with the dissipating smoke of matches spent… Passionately stoked you have been with such colorful kindling: Little brown pharmacy bottles like hollowed out logs of failed intent Weak acknowledgement of wretched night dwindling So cruel in length without; Morning comes slowly and bitter cold