Cinder Song

I sat on the floor, in a sea made of paper

It might’ve been Christmas or April exams

My feet they were cold and hands they were numb

I wished that my blood could warm on command

But never, love, and never mind,

Collect the kindling,

Well, who has the time?

Because fire can’t start in a damp and dark heart

So I tipped the candle to light up the room

Imitation of life, it took to dancing,

Curling its skirts as it swept through the gloom

I heard hands on the door, were they pounding for more?

Broken words burning through, saying,

“help, be here soon”

But forever, love, is ever unkind

Long sleeves in summer

To hide what reminds

Of cinder songs, just ash all along

Shallow whispers from wood

And the match that withstood the flame

Are all that remain.


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