emc poetry

Burnt embers of my life

settled down on the field of wildflowers

I slept in,

crying not of mourning

but of despair and anguish

that I let myself be burned

one too many times.

The sky that was filled with ash

before

looked like the fire

I was so scared of

before.

Laying there

watching it burn

I finally realized

it was gorgeous and bright-

not always meant to hurt

also meant to recreate

something from the nothing

of the night.

-emc