Furnace

When you have faced many traumas in life, it can feel like you are constantly trapped inside a furnace.

Flames licking and caressing open wounds.

Screaming into a void.

Cursing the world around us in desperation.

Incriminating ourselves for expressing our pain out loud.

Deep wounds that seem unable to heal.

We try to escape the furnace.

Recreate ourselves from the pieces left over.

What we escaped with.

The fragile burning embers.

This time.

I shall not flee the furnace.

I shall burn.

I shall smoulder inside.

I shall disintegrate inside myself.

To ashes I will become.

Cooled and rested.

Once likened to a bird of paradise.

The irony of my irrational fear of passerine creatures not lost in me.

Before I would emerge a fledgling.

This time.

The Phoenix x