Ignite.

A poem. Prompted by Photo.

Matchbook Born.

As a Matchstick I know no other form. Pulled from my home.
All alone.
I am Weak —
Before I Burn.

Robbed of my family, friend, and any foe. Just for you…

Here is a little something you may not know —

Once I’m Swiped,
My flame ignites…

Now, I’m in charge — Now, I decide.

A metaphysical detail, perhaps for those whom live in dark… Endlessly awaiting any type of

As I flicker —
they’re sneaking, they’re grieving, they’re misleading.

They quiver —
Impulsivity, it is endless, a needing.

Let us Embark.

You placed your future into my hands the very moment you ripped me out of my homelands!

F

a

l

l

i

n

g

into lust; this be Desire!

Appoint me to be Brighter before I Retire.

You shall attest to my flame!
Strike me, and I Shall Ablaze!

Basing your decisions off of past, and present shame…

Watch me dance in the cool wind, of your dark hallways.
You shall see what you did;
there’s no extinguishing.

Let us watch what surfaces from your Sin —

putting your faith, blindly, into just anybody…
into just anything!

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