9/11

I felt my lungs fill with ash. There was no time for breathing. I was
burning. No, I was flying. I now know what it is to burn.

 

Nothing is what it once was. This aching buried deep in my bones, thriving only
to wrap itself in my fate. My arms and legs have broken down. A
feeling not to be compared with turning light to dark, or believing far less
than the truth. No, not like it once was. But a feeling, all its own. I
had longed to feel for so long before this day. I burned.

 

And maybe, just maybe, I’m the one that’s gone. I was burning. Releasing
everything I’d ever held. Extracting every lie I now need not uphold. Never
have I gone too far. But this feeling, this feeling, any feeling...

 

I now know what it is to burn.

Author's Note

any feedback, good or bad, would be highly appreciated

Reviews

[constancelovesdarkness]

I will always remember that day. I was in first grade. It was the scariest thing I had ever seen in my life. I cry every year from all those who perished in the flames or whom decided that their only option was to jump. I really hope I never have to live through something like that EVER again. Reading your poem made me think back on that day that will always live with me.