On hot days, I think about water

In the company of Chaos, I think about peace

In the crowd of disbelief, I think about lonely faith.

When I wanted friends, there was not a friend

who wanted to be a friend to me.

I was told, “Be by yourself.” And the more I wanted to be with other people

I was denied this human need.

I didn’t understand the crowd, and the crowd

didn’t care

to understand me.

I was told to get away. “Make your fire.”

So, I found the lonely, the desperate, and the needy

but I didn’t want to kindle my flame with them

and the fire began to grow inside me

coming out of my eyes, unknowingly

I see beautiful women, but they don’t see me

I am like a box of matches

waiting to be struck

choosing, which fires to light

Just knowing that I carry this potential in my pocket

is enough.

If my routines are ruined

by crowds

I get away

because I don’t need to be with them

All their noise

can be enjoyed

from a distance.

Their power comes from being accepted

My power comes from being rejected.


6 thoughts on “Sometimes, the Fire

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