Split ends, burnt edges.
A transition of fire,
The slice of a knife to draw my way,
And no other.
And consequences are sequences,
Of explosive factions,
Set off in motion –
I am cleaning my plate of charred ash,
Of fresh trauma, created by me.
My decision to fail, to derail my self-esteem.
To set myself up on the same loop,
Winding and rotating like an aimless axis,
Without anyone but me to inhabit the outcome.
And come out: broken, burnt –
Yet better than ever.