I am a slave to this fire
Shrieks of yellow, blinding, near
Billow.
Volumes of smoke stacked, piled on air shelves
Burn.
This library burns.
Triumphant streams spotlight
On your hands.
Unfamiliar on the nape of my neck.
The breath I once inhaled; sour, repulsive.
A remainder of disgrace
Consoling not the quivers of my chin.
In this frozen palace of regret
Balmy and red, my skin presses against jagged ice
A painful contrast; sharp chill, warm shame
I retract
Agony. My skin shreds clean.
With arms folding my bare body,
Wounded and raw
Pink, squealing
I am an outcast.
Silent tears freeze mid-air
And shatter, slicing my knees in betrayal.
Water from my eyes
Beneath my internal flood I drown
Sink.
To the depths
Until above me, blackened boards are nailed
I am frozen in this grave
Eyes glassed in an undying stare
Forced to focus on the frame of fault
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