How To Let My Parents Know Its Not Their Fault: A Collection By Eryn Arlyle

my worlds on fire, how bout yours?

(Totally didn't title this after Shrek)

Life starts as a spark,
A touch of hands,
Brush of lips.
Soon those hands will slap,
And those lips will speak and twist each other's words.
And that's how the fire starts.

I'm a child in a house of chaos and smoke,
But that's normal right?
I can't walk into my room without tripping over toys,
But that's fine.
The house is smokey dusty and dirty as my mother rots in bed, losing her spark.
But my house isn't on fire so it must be fine.

I'm a child in a classroom,
Struggling to understand addition.
But that's normal right?
Drifting into a world where my peers turn into friends and-
Why don't I have friends?
Why do the other kids avoid me?
Why do they all know a secret that I don't?
We do fire drills,
But the school isn't on fire,
so it must be fine.

I'm a child sitting on the couch with a phone in my hand,
Filming videos hoping to be the next big YouTube star,
Waiting for my rotting mother to take me to school.
When she's rotting for to long, I decide I have enough and try and walk.
I am lost.

I am a child sitting on the couch,
Accompanied by these funny little flames,
With smoke heavy in the air,
As my mother and her boyfriend argue in the kitchen.
The lights buzz
Candles flicker,
Dogs bark,
Why must it be so loud?
And the pot of water my mother put on for dinner boils over and spills over the stove onto the floor.
Nobody noticed that pot of water.
Nobody noticed me on the couch,
Crying because everything is so loud,
Because the funny little flames are inching closer and the smoke is a little to heavy on my shoulders.
But it's not on fire so it must be fine right?

I am a child,
With too much life experience,
To much in my brain.
Every inch of my brain buzzes with ideas,
With things to do to be noticed.
I am a child, but not really anymore.

I am alive.
I'm in my fathers driveway but in the car with my mom,
"You'll be a big sister"
Rattles in my brain,
Why won't that stupid thing ever be quiet?
Suddenly all those funny flames come back,
I've grown to like them,
Befriend them and listen to their stories,
Let them inspire me and make it right.
I am alive,
But not on fire so I must be fine.

I am dying as I begin the next 9 months of hell,
Full of renovations and baby updates,
Her Midnight cravings as I crave a childhood I never got.
The funny flames keep me company,
They lean in closer and tickle my brain,
The quiet it so it can realize,
The spark is back,
But the building is on fire.
I am alive in the house of fire.

I am alive and burning,
Flames lick up all the walls,
The carpet turns to ash as the smoke grows thicker and thicker.
My house is on fire,
I am on fire,
How did I never realize that?
My body burns,
My heart hurts knowing another innocent life will be born into a burning home it never asked for.
I am alive and burning bright as ever.

I run for local authorities,
My house is on fire!
That baby is going to die!
I am going to die from my own flame!
I need help!
They don't help,
They've tried to put the flame out,
Time and time again,
"If there is a fire your trying to douse you can't put it out from Inside the house."
I grow even more used to the flames.

The flames never die down,
No amount of renovations or money spent can hide them,
Or the scorch marks they leave in their wake.

I hold that spark in my arms,
Trying to figure out how to explain that it's house is on fire,
I relive it all,
From the boiling pot,
To the dreadful knocks on our door,
From foodless pantries,
To friendless classes,
I relive it all,
This tiny spark in my arms has so much potential,
And I will teach it all I know.