A space on fire

There are thoughts,

Visions,

Sensations,

That crash into me

With such precise timing that it’s as if

I sent them myself.

Like somehow, years ago,

I knew exactly where I would be standing now.

And she,

Years-ago-me,

Was determined to keep this fire burning,

To maintain enough agitation in my core,

That I would forever seek new forms of

Solace

And therefore grow.

And I do.

I receive these thoughts and visions and sensations and

Let them take up space inside me until

It burns too hot.

Whiskey

And neglect

Have fueled this wild conflagration that now demands

My attention.

I turn inwards,

Face to the flames,

And look

For whatever I’m supposed to find.

I kneel,

Bow,

Reach,

Twist,

Balance,

Focus,

Breathe,

Sweat.

I let the fire transform me

And try not to be afraid

Of change,

Of emerging somehow

Unrecognizable.

I will, of course,

Be me.

And maybe no one will know I was on fire.

Maybe my fate is to be alone with myself

And to discover peace there.

In a space unwitnessed,

Unappreciated,

Unloved,

Unknown,

By anyone, but me.

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