Sometimes I Feel It

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
and make it go up
in smoke.

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


and bloody,
knowing it was your fault
as much as mine.

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.

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About Catastrophe Jones

Wretched word-goblin with enough interests that they're not particularly awesome at any of them. Terrible self-esteem and yet prone to hilarious bouts of hubris. Full of the worst flavors of self-awareness. Owns far too many craft supplies. Will sing to you at the slightest provocation.
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4 Responses to Sometimes I Feel It

  1. araneus1 says:

    “and I cannot remove
    my hand
    from the match,
    not even as I watch it burn down,”

    love that line!

  2. Trent Lewin says:

    Feeling your pain, Jones. I can’t look away.

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