Sleeping in the Southern Summer

- Finished with Fire -

Today, I decided to be finished with Fire. 

I have learned

how to survive its heat.

I've let the flames caress my face 

And call me its partner.

The burning sensation

a cruel reminder

that I deserved the pain.

I've called myself a match stick,

attracted to the stricking sensation of sandpaper love.

That love that grinds you into ash

and doesn't bother to clean up the mess.

I have called myself broken kindling,

discarded trash daunted by the task of being set ablaze 

by the same lover 

with a different face.

I have called myself the pit,

tasked with holding the destruction at bay,

letting my hopes melt away 

within that dangerous embrace. 

Today, I decided to be finished with Fire. 

I will call myself Water.

I will be the soothing escape 

from the inferno  

I danced with 

for far too long.

I will extend out

into the world 

and be an element 

of necessity.

Those fiery scars will

be long forgotten ripples in the sea of me.

Waves that will slowly fade 

as I admire the bounty I carry.

Today, I decided to be  finished with Fire.