Fear tastes like wet paper
Soggy and choking
In the back of my throat.

Bravery feels like swallowing fire
Scorching my stomach
Making my hands tingle

I want to be brave like a forest fire
Clearing the brush
Making room for fresh growth

I want to swallow the fear
That gets stuck
And leaves me where I started

When they come together
Bravery and fear unite to
Scorch the earth
Leaving nothing behind

Smoking, barren and desolate
A ravaged landscape
A perverse fresh start

I’ve been down that path before
The hope that lives in my sternum
Heavy, warm and permanent
Knows the way back
And would do it again and again and again
But would rather not.

Here’s to being a forest fire
To raging with purpose and growth.

This entry was posted in personal, Poem, writing and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to Fire

  1. Pai says:

    yes! beware of the confort zone…

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