I used to have a raging fire—
Crackling, dancing, bursting, writhing
Wouldn’t sit still, wouldn’t calm down
It devoured and it lived—
But I ran out of logs
But at least I still had kindling—
But I ran out of that as well
But at least I still had embers—
To hold back the looming darkness
But the wind carried each off
One by one…
Where did that spark go?
Fumbling in the dark
Who stole my matches?
Do they want me to freeze tonight?
When did the night
Grow so dark
How will I get my fire back
When it never occurred to me to wonder
How the first one started?
How did I never notice
The importance of my fire
To beat back the night inside of me?
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