It was morning. I have just woken up from a nightmare.
The sun through my window blinds me, so i shut them.
The only noise is distant cars on free ways,
Driving to work, school, friends,
That time of day where you have to be somewhere.
I settle here, my hands and insides black and charred.
The fire in me has now been extinguished, the soot now making me ill,
The ash is clogging my lungs, my heart now seared benevolence.
Recalling my past, I can’t see what went misguided.
My fire has always been lit, but one I have been able to scrutinize.
It caused a fever in me, the medicine for it out of reach, I learned to survive.
I held my fever close as to not contaminate others or spread this sickness,
I might as well be a child holding onto fantasy. And hope is real.
But yesterday, my fire had passed my sand barriers and blazed my hands.
The sensation like wild fire spreading through my body,
Burning whatever noble thoughts, the sparks flew from me and ignited my room.
The fire has spread from every inch of my home and into my garden,
Blackening flower petals, paradise in the bonfire, and me trying to save them.
The smog in my once clean space now engulfing me, I can no longer stay here.
Coughing, I climb up a tree left standing through this rampage,
Up on highest point, the air is clear up here, so I pray to God to hear me.
And as I pray for strength to resist, I see Nature’s wrath, a cure.
A forbidden fruit, a lone peach hanging, flirting with me you could say.
I decide now to let it burn or take a bite, and I’m starving, famished, hungry.
Sweetness of the fruit calms me down,
The juice is a water hydrant that has exploded inside of me.
Nature making such beautiful fruit, far away from tainted hands.
Organic fruit, away from all pesticides or additives. It is pure.
I am a blender now, mixing the nectar with my heat, I create sweat.
It felt so free for I’m no longer burning. The peach, a medicine.
Ointment over burn scars that haven’t healed from touching my own hot skin.
My wounds have started healing, my mind is mine again.
There is no peace here anymore, while the room is still
I can’t help but feel myself be moved. A realization perhaps,
That God is no match for Nature. She will always prevail over him,
Providing fleshy fruit, moist, soft, and warm,
It could fuel any fire, leaving pitch-dark obsidian as it takes your body.
Sticking my finger down my throat, I try to vomit the after math.
The peach passes through my body, but only charcoal comes out.
A reminder that I have forsaken the part of me God loved, and it is gone.
Life can’t be lived the same after surviving an out of control fire,
Recovering whatever damage the fire may have done is pointless.
My fever has abandoned me, leaving behind a burnt carcass.
The walls of my room scarred from my flame, there is no fixing this,
It has created the perfect tomb for me to spend the rest of my days.
I’m now a stranger to myself, I have forgotten my name, my mirrors darkened.
So I lay here, my eyes shut to the light outside, listening to cars continue on,
And I wait for the rest of myself to burn in hell.