I have been pleading for the fire to come
For a long time now; it springs up from the ground
In a shining, shifting arabesque and paints
My world in sweeping strokes of crimson.
It crawls up old and weary features masked
By a net of scars so ancient
Even they have given up being angry.
I dance among the lapping flames,
Shedding despairs like feathers.
This is the cruelest kind of ecstasy.
Memories are burnt for fuel.
And every point of pride or regret,
Pleasures so weathered they have
Become burdens, years of sorrow,
Years of joy, every triumph and defeat,
Hopes and doubts, all these things
Which once tugged at my limbs
Until every move I made was like a sailor
Trying to swim against a riptide,
They all cascade down my naked frame
To gather, impotent, at my feet,
Reduced to a pile of whispering ash;
Slowly, my body crumbles until the screams
Of joyous pain have no throat left to live in.
The flames subside... and I emerge,
Stretching new muscles, testing the limits
Of altered bones and virgin flesh,
Eager to hear the sound of my voice for the first time.
Stepping forward, the ashes of my old body are scattered
Into the wind, only echoes now.
I am a recent graduate from New Jersey who graduated with a B.A. in Creative Writing with a History minor from Farleigh Dickinson University. I am an emerging writer currently working on my first novel and with an unpublished book of poetry based on Ovid’s Metamorphoses. I write both poetry and prose, and tend to lean towards the mythic, the fantastic, and the bizarre in my writing.