#003 Arson

Poem

I think this one is self-explanatory. I hope it resonates with anyone who grew up in a house that never felt safe.

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I dreamt the home of my childhood went up in flames
spine all bent and curdled from the heat
bowed knees wobbling in on themselves
no longer able to hold the weight. Importantly, 
no one was hurt,
not the firefighters or the neighbors or even the trees
only the house and everything in it soothed
into ash, the kind that falls quiet as confetti 
ribbons. It drifts through my fingers, catches in the wind
and then it is gone,
impossible to piece back together.