Abora

trash fire at alcatraz

8/11/18 10:50PM

 

every campfire i make turns into a prison cell

the logs are bars up and down

across my face as i lean into

the heat

 

and as the nights wear

so does my skin

the bars shrink and i just keep putting more wood on

 

i think it’ll warm me but it always smoldered 

 

the nights do end, venomously as i scatter the bars and logs into some hellish cubic pattern to douse the flame

 

when my sentence is up

i find my chest puffed in pride

for burning so much so quickly

it doesn’t matter if i’m cold now

all that waste is gone

and the prison gate is too

 

the best campfire comes when no one 

 

and i mean no one

 

is around to see the shattered limbs that they siphoned life from

 

finally turning to ash