Fire
It can kill you.
The more you feed it, the more it craves
you. You try to control it, but the chemistry is
too heated up, so you are hypnotized
with it’s ability to energize you.
It makes itself clear- with it’s bright colours
and all that, but you forget to look
anywhere else, so it compresses your life into
a bizarre mess of illogical decisions.
You thinks it clarifies you, but it just
blurs everything else in a haze of ignorance,
so you lose track of size, and colour,
and time, and make yourself blind.
Sometimes you wish it was less
intense, and that you didn’t have to
always put on a show, and stand in the
centre watching them watch you.
You thought it would make you better, more
substance means more life, but it just takes
over you, so what was you, is now a tiny
fragment of it, which just keeps getting smaller.
You can’t mix with who you want now,
you have to compromise, you can’t be free,
you have to stick to it until it has completely
changed you into something different.
Sometimes you feel so small and submerged
that you can’t breathe any more. It spins you
in circles, but you’re tired, and hot, and you want
to think without it’s thoughts moulding you.
But it’s too late to break the bond you made
that time when you wanted to dance. It’s too late
to change your mind now, and pretend it never
had any effect on you. It’s too late to put it out.
So you’re stuck with it’s snakes of arms too greedy
to care anymore, and that heat long too hot,
so it scorches you alive, and that colour, which
you blindly agreed to share, when you were you.
But you ‘re used to it now.
You know that you can break free if you try
really hard, but it’s you who’s too scared to leave.
You think it will stop you, and burn you, and eat
you, but it’s you who does that to yourself.
You remember when it was the answer to
everything, and when your body was big enough
to make decisions, but your heart, too selfish.
You remember those times, and you cry.
And you think again, and you open your
eyes, and you clarify life, and you free
yourself. It may have burnt your senses,
and your thoughts, and your heart, but,
It can’t kill you.
Only you can kill yourself.
Copyright © Ankita Saxena | Year Posted 2010
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