Sometimes
I feel it — the immediacy of the thing I need to say,
a burning from the inside out,
and I cannot remove
my hand
from the match,
not even as I watch it burn down,
not even as I see it burn
my fingers,
not even as I see it catch
everything
and make it go up
in smoke.
Sometimes
I feel it — an urgency,
a need to bear down
and watch the thing be born,
even as it tears me to shreds,
even as I am laid
bare
and bloody,
knowing it was your fault
as much as mine.
Sometimes
I feel it — a hate I never wanted,
never knew how to carry,
but it’s all for me,
isn’t it?
All of it — for me.
“and I cannot remove
my hand
from the match,
not even as I watch it burn down,”
love that line!
Terry
Thank you!
Feeling your pain, Jones. I can’t look away.
A trainwreck’s a trainwreck, eh? 😉