The fire was once warm
Once peaceful
Once safe
The fire was once kind
It brought forth comfort
And company
That I had been so cruelly denied
The fire was small
It was quiet
It didn't pose a threat
Nor danger
The flames whispered a name
"Amber" the fire was dubbed
I supposed the name made since
And I welcomed her in with no displeasure
Nor distaste
She was my friend
I would sit by the fire
Throwing in all the wood I owned
And coal
And fuel
And anything to keep her ablaze
The fire was small at first
But she only continued to grow
Then suddenly the flames were huge
They towered over me
Leaving no way of escape
They don't tell you how slow the fire burns
How long it takes to melt away
They don't tell you how easy it is to tend to fire
To make her beautiful
And they most definitely never tell you
That upon the first breath that fire took
You were already dead.
YOU ARE READING
Where The Grass Grows
PoezjaA poetry collection about life & death, love, loss, & grief. Written through the lens of a 15-17-year-old girl. These poems are a collection of my story. Take care of them. They mean the world to me.
