Fire

Fire.

I have always been fire.
A raging fierce fire.
You always thought you could tame me,
Like you could put me down and put me to sleep.
Like you could control the brightness of my light,
Or manipulate the depths of my burns.
It’s the third degree,
And you are just realizing
You were never in a position to touch me.
For I am heat and I am warmth,
But I am also sizzling destruction.
I am refinery and I am rebirth,
And I am also scorching pain.

I’m not a pretty flame
I’m the wild kind.
And sometimes, the scary kind
And sometimes, the ugly kind.
And I don’t just burn
Sometimes I destroy
And sometimes I slay.

And I am not elegant or refined,
But I am a flame that needs no spark.
I am a force to be reckoned with.

So don’t pretend like you didn’t know.
I have always been fire
Not the kind contained in a candle or a lamp
I have always been the fire untamed.

And I love that I am creation
And destruction
And warmth
And heat
And pain
And everything inbetween.

And I love that I am useless and useful,
I am worthless and worthy
All at the same time.
Yet you cannot control me
You can’t contain me
You can’t silence me
You can’t cover me.
You can’t hold me back
You can’t dim my blaze
You can’t put me out
You can’t hold me down
Or make me
Less hot,
Less burn,
Less ablaze,
Less fire.
You simply can’t.

I AM fire.

 

Tracy Eric Writes… About the underestimated fire that burns when you are not paying attention. Pay attention.

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