Nearing fire

Ophelia_by_EarthDefectShe was not a hunter

She did not compete

There were no hands on the tinder clocks, rebinding feats.

When it rained, she stayed dry

Her hearth and rug, small morsels of comfort clutched

For not venturing out, salved potential for harm.

She grew up on the black hard bread of fear

Of the river breaking its banks and drowning

Those she loved

It was an inherited sense of loss

Passed down through heavy curtains, generations of individuals, feeling cast off

All the instability of fine china, balancing, teetering, turning to shattered lotuses.

She saw what happened when they lied and said she was safe

She could feel the pink welts, smell the violation, as it poured down the road, a torrent of what humanity can do

To a child.

She grew scars as self armor

Moved further to the fireplace to touch the source of its continual scald

When it stormed outside she didn’t join the rushing tide

The pinches, taunts, jostling, glut on perpetual war

Plasma and soldiers, drunk on devouring dear goodness

She stayed listening to the sound of the rasping wind

Beating on the old oak door

As if everything possible came together and fought

To get inside.

She stayed set apart from her given trajectory, a kite who cut her wings

Turning to liquid and back into wax, only to melt, nearing fire

They say fear is an echo, set the trap, watch it snap back

Until, submerged there’s no end, but the point you began, to let it rule.

She watched fear remove, her skin, her sight, and blind with fright, she consumed her own shadow

Till it was the only place to return, and burning into reduction she saw the reflection of someone with nothing to lose.

Expunging soot from her stained lungs, she let herself pass through the cloak of heat, demolishing every trace

Rising from emptiness, becoming ash in air and last dancer of ember, she saw

Hands spin trees into forests, reclaiming what was lost, in hungering inferno.

A girl who closed the door and checked beneath the bed, was gone

In her place the outline of a cowering form, afraid, yet, stepping from

The thin ledge we believe protects us from imagined harm

When all along we torment ourselves with far greater, considered terrors

Better that we face head on, destroy facade, turn to rubble and rebuild

Our resolution for survival, as we will always near, fire.

Advertisements

23 thoughts on “Nearing fire

  1. In the kaleidoscope of images,
    Sharp edged shards of fear.
    Broken glass in many colors
    For the mind to walk on.
    Shatter the imagined foe
    And sweep clear the fanged floor
    And venture beyond the door.

  2. On the faithless days, surviving seems hardest, but we must do so. And, you’re doing so. These lines:

    “She watched fear remove, her skin, her sight, and blind with fright, she consumed her own shadow

    Till it was the only place to return, and burning into reduction she saw the reflection of someone with nothing to lose.

    Expunging soot from her stained lungs, she let herself pass through the cloak of heat, demolishing every trace

    Rising from emptiness, becoming ash in air and last dancer of ember, she saw

    Hands spin trees into forests, reclaiming what was lost, in hungering inferno.”

    What does a phoenix do? I think you know.

  3. Beautiful & amazing write. This illness is fierce, but you are fiercer by far… you just need to remind yourself of that at times. And if you forget I’m always here to remind you as well. Your resilience in the face of great adversity is nothing short of heroic. ღ

  4. Candice, I don’t know how you do it: Amazing images, one after another projected from your sharp, creative mind. Great writing once again. Wishing you freedom from suffering…β€οΈπŸ’•

  5. You reminding me is what has kept me afloat. You are so strong and such a role-model for me, as well as an inspiration. I want to be as strong as you but your strength helps me too. Thank you isn’t enough.

  6. I read and wrote you back. Oh and you flatter me with your praise, but don’t put me on a pedestal. I really not that strong nor brave, I’m just very stubborn. I remember you wrote something along those lines once, so I know you understand.

  7. You’re the second one to say I put you on a pedestal (at least you know how to spell it!) my cousin said the same thing. Maybe I do half-do, and there is a good reason why. My dad bless his heart always saw the negative, and I grew up telling myself I would be a positive in people’s life. I DO see wonderful things in people (not all, don’t get me wrong) and when I do I say it. Sometimes it comes across to others like I’m just flattering or kissing up, they may think I’m not genuine, but I am. Always. Unfailingly. I mean what I say. And as for pedestals. Well. If you think amazing things about a person that’s your truth, it’s not so much pedestal as just huge, huge appreciation for. Oh and I know you’re stubborn believe me! I met my match with you! Total defeat! πŸ˜‰ And for the record, I think you are strong. VERY. And you help me to be stronger because of it. WORD.

  8. After reading what you wrote here I kept reading it and then kept thinking about it. I just LOVED it. You said exactly what I needed to remind myself of and hear, thank you because it had a huge impact on me, and I am very, very grateful my WISE friend

  9. So much so that you inspired today’s poem COMPLETELY so I credited it to you at the bottom THANK YOU. (I wish I knew how to link to you but anyway if you see the one I posted today your name is at the bottom).

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s