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Writer's pictureAnastazia Zander

[un]Controlled Burn

Is a fire truly able to be controlled?

Embers may slow

winds will blow

but power is not in one’s hands-

which sizzle and crack at a single touch to the source.

If the sudden shift from flicker to fire

on it’s own will depends,

Could not the same be said for losing friends?


Souls bind to one another as do books.

Two get placed in an old library

full of splendors and woes

Only a small building;

but the entire world it looks

Hours are spent whispering in all familiar corners.

Every story is learned

they despise each other’s foes.

Singular words weave into shared paragraphs,

as their co-written novel grows.


When time goes on less attention may be paid

Age does not guarantee strength.

Pages yellow and fade,

letters droop until nearly indistinguishable

Making already fragile connections blur.


Wear and tear is vulnerable

small cuts will rip apart with little might.

In this moment the sneaky fire barges in:

One slight fight

and a single spark sets the whole thing alight

Harsh words fan the flames

every little staple

all strokes of glue

Are forgotten as they melt away.


Fire reaches every shelf

dancing without a care in its mind

grabbing anything it can hug its scolding arms around.

Now the victims can no longer visit the place once called home

For the ashes still sit

On the spot they were left alone.


Resolution is not found in that moment

If pain is normal;

Why not own it?


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