pyromancy - escapril day 9

on a sunday morning on a quiet street
she sat in the driveway, unmoving
as the house went up in flames. the angry sort,
cerulean-white at the stem –
sprouted into orange, then, as if back into itself, cerulean –
ends melted into sky. the girl observed.
she’d figured you could only fight your nature
for so long before body gives into mind, and each
day it became harder to see her bed and clothes and
diaries not running through the gutters.
swiped fingers through birthday candles to try and tame
but that was just a party game and anyways,
it was time to burn something besides herself.

later she fishes kernels out of her teeth and is
asked why she’d resorted to an act of destruction.
as far as she was concerned it was the opposite:
a chemical reaction typified by the creation of something new
heat, light, tomorrow
a bargain, given what she lost and what
she’ll gain. they’ll be even more to discover in the
wreckage but today, she flies up, up,
over the crest of the billowing smoke.

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savannah brown,spoken word,poetry,escapril,