STARING THROUGH THE WINDOW

 It was a harmless threat, this itch

that was small enough to hold in my palm-

just an arsonist's plaything.

a minute-long glow that shuddered beneath my breath.

                    i didn't know it would consume me

I confused grow with eat and light with distruction

by the time i realized my mistake, the beams were cinders.

the walls were only whisps and i was left bare

in the whip-sting cold of January.

with the river licking at my knees

and a nameless letter between my teeth.

                    I don't remember how i got here

                    and still, i try to forget.

the wreckage tells its own story and the water will stay even less.

every word i try to write is tinged with the scent of summer

and none of it can withstand the truth.

still i stain paper, with invalid promises, these fragments of forever have nowhere else to go

I heat the living room with ophaned love poems

and wonder why the echoes of what we lost warm me more than he ever could.