Monday, September 13, 2010

Burned: A Poem

Play with fire little girl,
But beware of getting burned,
She burned her photographs,
Her albums, her scrapbooks, her memories,
The ones of her childhood, friends, and birthday parties,
Considered them “trash,”
Watch them turn black,
Crumple up and simmer,
 As she smiled and the wind blew,
All of it disappeared,
Throughout the four corners of the world.

She wears these big, black boots,
As she walks down the cemented sidewalk,
Still with that smile on her face,
She had a lighter in her hand
That she would turn on and off
With a flick of her wrist,

It was night and she planned on revenge,
On the whole world,
She would make it the hell that it really is,
She took the lighter,
She lit the streets on fire,
One by one,
Parading through the streets,
Trees shed their fiery leaves,
Houses and buildings became infernos,
And she laughed ‘til she fell on her knees,
Still lighter in hand,
She tried to stand,
But couldn’t get up.
Sometimes the pressure of the world was too much,
Her laughs turned to tears
But no amount of water could stop the embers in her heart,
She was broken, unable to fix,
So she began putting fire to everything she knew and loved,
Because then her pain would go away, she thought
It wasn’t there anymore to remind her of what she was,
A slut because of the streets.
She wiped her tears away with the back of her fist,
The lighter was turned off,
All that was left was her sitting in the center of her own personal hell,
Surrounded by the fires she created,
Not being able to stand,
She let the fires destroy,
She let them take everything from her hands,
Including her life,
As the flames ate her feet,
She didn’t bother to move,
She dropped her lighter,
And let the fires consume.

The only thing left was her silver lighter on the floor,
Turned off forever,
And a charred, black body of a girl we all once knew.

Goodbye, Amy. 


The Words Crafter said...

wow, this was dark and sad and cautionary. Is this about someone you actually know?

I can empathize with the darkness burning within her. It's too bad she couldn't find a way to deal with the hurt burning within her....

You know, this would make a good story.....

Lisa_Gibson said...

How sad. Profoundly moving poem.
Lisa ~ YA Literature Lover

Theresa Milstein said...

I felt her misplaced need to destroy all that hurt her instead of learning from it, growing. Powerful poem.

Justine Dell said...

Whoa. What a poem. Intriguing and heartbreaking all at once.


Carolyn V. said...

That is sad. I wish she found a way to move past it.

Lynda Young said...

wow powerful poem. It comes across as goth in the beginning and finishes with a agonising pow.

Vatche said...

This poem was actually based on a dream I had of a friend, The Words Crafter/Becky. So, it is about someone I know, but none of it really happened to her.

I think it would make a good story, too. I might try to expand it later on, but for right now I'm kind of busy with other projects. It's a nice thought though, so I'll definitely keep it in a safe place in my mind.

Write on!

Vatche said...

Hey, Lisa!

Thank you for reading the poem and actually commenting on it. I really do appreciate your words, so a millions thanks.

Write on!

Vatche said...

Theresa, it is a strange yet human feeling to turn everything into rubble instead of learning from those mistakes. It was a sad end for Amy, I think almost everyone would agree on that.

Write on!

RosieC said...

Yes, it would make an excellent story. Super dark. *shivers* Nicely done!

If you get a chance, stop by my blog. There's something waiting there for you :)

Vatche said...

Hey, Justine! I'm always glad to see a new face in the comments! :D

Thank you for your awesome words. It was a strong poem probably 'cause I sort of experienced it in my dreams and I thought about it really, really throughly, which made it somehow different from some of my other poems.

Write on!

Vatche said...

Carolyn, there's always more than one choice, but Amy decided to choose this tragic one instead. It was her choice to end up like that. Everything is a choice, remember that.

Write on!

Vatche said...

Lynda, I was just thinking about how dark the poem was actually and how you called it gothic, which is right. It is a very dark poem, but also realistic in a sense, because it CAN happen in our world, which is what I aim for in my stories. I aim for the realism, which is that "agonizing pow," I believe.

Write on and thanks for everything!

Vatche said...

Hey, RosieC!

Thanks for the awesome comment and for the award, I'll be sure to pass it on sometime soon when I get the chance!

Write on!

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