This is my story in 199 words. I rarely write anything resembling poetry but this is a rare attempt. It is inspired by something, for what it’s worth. I haven’t really written and finished anything in a bit so this felt good. And I like it, so there’s that.
We Burn
We burn.
The candle snuffed too early.
The light brought under too soon.
Rough hands on smooth skin.
Yellow turned to red.
A doll buried in dirt.
We burn.
A hundred candles against a crowding darkness.
A thousand cameras and a million eyes and pleading, pleading, pleading…
Bring her back.
Never knowing how close we were and how far away she was.
We burn.
Ten thousand fliers.
Ten million social network shares.
News.
Radio.
Pleading.
Begging.
Waiting.
Nothing.
We burn.
Days into weeks into months.
Searching and searching and…
They find you.
Our fallen angel.
Buried in mud.
Buried in dirt.
Destroyed.
Discarded.
Gone.
And we burn.
Our heartache.
Our pain.
Our sorrow.
Our rage.
It burns.
A napalm vengeance crawling across the world until we find you.
Sick.
Weak.
Crying.
Cowering.
Pathetic.
We burn.
Body.
Clothes.
Car.
House.
Memory.
Everything you were and are.
We burn.
To bone.
To cinder.
To ash.
To nothing.
We burn.
And slowly, so slowly the fire dims until it is nothing.
The cold emptiness filled like a grave.
Buried like a body.
In the mud.
In the dirt.
Planting your memory like so many seeds and praying.
Praying for rain.
– c
My books –
The Spooky World of Chris Ringler 