Posted in The Messy Life, The Writing Life

The Arsonist (2)

The Arsonist

 

 

There is no flame that burns as hot as one set by Betrayal

and no accelerant like anger to incinerate the remains.

Like all lovers of flame and pain,

it sets fire to the dried edges of my once childlike faith,

reduced to kindling, while sweet, idealistic tendencies give off acrid smoke.

My tinder heart ignited by the steel strike against flint.

 

 

Part 1

2 thoughts on “The Arsonist (2)

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