What a strange place to find one’s
reflection
A raging fire filled with priceless artifacts
now deemed to be expendable.
A binder filled with sleepless nights,
countless tears, and obscure knowledge.
Reduced to a mono-chromatic whisp of
fragile ash.
A couch that reaks of stale beer from the party last night.
A sad mishaped seat cushions
Sad if only because simply being
Mishaped due to friendly usage
is not enough to live on.
A life
is filled with this kindling,
these glimpses of the past,
these flammable memories.