charcoal

I’ve always been charcoal

Porous and absorbing others’ pain

Filling hearts

Drinking poison

Eating what didn’t belong

I lit myself on fire

To escape through the flames

I would crumble and blow away


Now I am charcoal

Soft and adapting to others’ pain

Drawing pictures

Writing poems to opened hearts

Co-diagraming what doesn’t belong

I draw lines to define my own space

And light myself up to enjoy the warm glow of my flames

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3 a.m. Ritual