My Fire

/My Fire/

I can't tell the difference, reality and dream
I can't feel the fire, burried and dead
I can't see or hear it, blind and deaf

My heart sits between us, like a blood covered bug
It's slow like a slug, weak and beating
It has holes punched in it, worm-filled and bleeding

My wounds are still visible, festering and slowly scaring
The outside hardly matches the in, whole and mostly untouched
While everyone else sleeps, I toss and turn, simply too much

But you can see, the worth of the soul beyond the pattern of its scares
The light, low and dim
The pain, old and new
My fire, somehow still burning within
 

Reviews

[Chesney W.]

very creative. very good writing.
-Chesney Chey :)

[Pi Cee]

I like knowing a full on fire burns behind someone's eyes, usually all there is is a lonely flame. ;) Great piece.

[Slithering Angel]

I usually have little more than a pilot light, but when it gets turned up, I can be quite the inferno. ;-)

[Pi Cee]

Perfect ;)