The Fire

It’s like  my soul is on fire. Amidst the darkness of a broken spirit, some vast and painful fire has erupted and lit my heart aflame. It’s a passionate hunger that burns through my skin and into my nightmares. I toss and turn and then I wake up and find that the swimming pool is still drained and the tree house is still in shambles.

I remember painting the walls white, washing away the colorful shade of forever. Then even the mountains disappeared and I was left in the flatness of a concrete jungle. The sun filled my body with more sweat and tears then my wasting away spirit could handle.

I slept with a nightlight on . . . well, slept is a generous way of saying it. Mostly it was war that took place in the latest hours of the night – a war I’m beginning to realize that isn’t over: a war I have yet to truly win.

But, onward.

To the deepest, blackest pit and back, onward.