The Fire
I could not speak when the flames rose, ears full of licking and popping noise, its sweeping with deadly fury up my walls. Reptilian mind activated, screaming escape, wheres the baby, wheres the baby, escape, escape. Reptilian brain, it had no time, it had no measure, it had nothing but instinct and adrenaline fuel.
A train of sound roars through the house bending doors, angry, and freed. What have I unleashed? Outside looking in I see orange, the house moans and kicks. Garage door buckling out like its made of liquid, my dog is inside, my dog is inside, someone is screaming my dog is inside. Pavement on my knees, my body aches and my soul is weeping in the street. I don’t care, neighbors come and stare and put shoes on my feet. My daughter crying beside me, Surreal. This is not happening, this is not happening, some one is yelling, this is not happening. I sob for a thousand reasons that have nothing to do with fire, it is the final straw, it is the snap that stops it all. Why? Why? Why is this my life?
Fire trucks everywhere, my dog once white now a puff of black dropped into my arms by a masked man. Flashlight in my face, EXPLAIN! But there is no explanation to give worth hearing. I call my husband in his dialysis chair, the house is burning, What? he says. The house is burning. Angry faces look at me, kind ones smile sweetly. I don’t know what to do, Mother says I knew this would happen to you. They killed the monster, wrapped up the hoses, took my statement in smoke laced cloths and ashes. Do you want to go inside? Do you want to see whats left? Are you burnt? Do you have smoke in your chest? Firefighters 100 feet tall, to them I guess its nothing at all. No I say, I already know, there’s nothing left inside that I want anymore.
Try to sleep. body twitching, a mind already pushed to the limit is reeling. I have to hold it together, I have to hang on, reptilian mind saying you have to get home.
(2013)
