Controlled Fire

Poem

The cold coated my skin.

goosebumps and “Brrrrrrr”

would catch me unexpectedly.

It’s freezing in here, I thought.

A beautifully structured home with no heat is…

meaningless.

Am I equipped to light a fire?

This living room has no warmth in its depth.

Turning a cozy home back into a house.

Detached but convenient to lay my head.

I’ll try.

I’ll try to set the place ablaze with fire.

Let the heat warm the walls I once knew.

Piece by piece I lay the sticks of wood.

Let’s start small.

Where’s the lighter?

Where are the twigs?

Flick. Flick.

There it goes.

Slow and steady.

Just a few blows towards the heat.

Let it spread through the twigs.

The bigger the flames grow.

The heat.

It’s too much.

Guarding the fire as the logs catch its blaze.

I’m warmer now.

Let’s sit by the place where the fire lives.

Inferno.

That’s what I call it.

It’s best controlled in the place where the fire lives.

I’m safe and warm in this home.

I’m reconnected as the goosebumps fade.