aftermath
a poem
Grief settles in her chest,
Like dusty black spiderwebs in an abandoned house.
The stale weight of memories clogs her lungs,
Heavy with what refuses to depart.
“What a strange place my mind has become,” she thinks,
Gasping for air.
It begins in her heart
Then it creeps upward
Into her head.
And the burning does not stop.
It goes on,
And on,
And on,
Until she feels her very life melting away
Like a candle lit in a dark room.
The candle burns and burns.
The flame feeds upon it slowly.
The room glows.
It burns comforted by the thought of a conclusion
That the fire will finish what it started.
At last, the flame disappears.
The candle still remains,
But shortened, twisted, distorted
With its melted wounds.
Only a fragment of itself, in darkness
After the fire has eaten its fill.
Yes, the fire has taken much from it,
Its wholeness, its former self…
Yet spared its life.
Is that the fire’s compassion,
Or a cruel act?
To strip away almost everything,
To leave it standing alone
Among the ruins of itself
And then ask it to go on living.
something before my exams start but i may delete it later idk
such imagery!