Who killed it? I did. I may burn in hell for it, but I did.
What did I feel? Relief, fear, joy, sorrow, a sick burn in my stomach I was sure would never go away and still hasn’t.
I don’t worry about hell anymore, because I am in it now. And the fire hasn’t burned me up yet.
I am the fire. I make heat sparks waves of light.
There is no antidote for what I have, for what I am.
Once I was a meek lamb, fearful, huddled behind the wooden fence.
Too afraid to climb over, to afraid to jump through.
But now I am unstoppable.
I am on fire.
by Allie J.
(c) all rights reserved
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