Fine.
Goddammit.
Fuck you.
I'll write nonsense just to shut you up,
Curse.
Meanwhile, confining me with demands of perfection,
this stupid language bursting through,
self awareness
humanity
a pilot light igniting fire after fire,
no matter how many times the hose of numbness
temporarily blows it out -
I keep buying more propane
and lighting the fucking thing.
With this blue flicker in my chest,
my ribs are melting to my heart
its waxy chambers dripping down my lungs,
and he asks me to speak.
His eyes are a warm shower,
and I think,
fine.
goddammit.
He's unquestionably
a much better firefighter
than I am.