fuel like fire

there’s nothing left of what was.
just handfuls now, almost-dust and never-enough.

you hide them in boxes labeled “things I could love”
only to bury them when winter comes.

the steel-hard ground gives no comfort or thanks,
instead demanding tribute from the new-empty-handed.

you pay and more as your nails scrabble red at the surface,
blooms of becoming, forever interred.

back in the gathering place the blacktop’s barren,
and you all bruised knuckles and cheeks on fevered fire.

the burning’s nothing next to the beckoning.
I know, I’ve been there before.

fountain-bound pennies, fragments of long-dead star,
gifts for the unworthy wisher.

when you ask (and you will) ask for peace when you go.
everything else is just fuel.


About tehlorkay

writer of poems and longer things. restless wanderer of small-town streets. unabashed seeker of the true world.
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2 Responses to fuel like fire

  1. Tehlor, I think we’ve chatted about this before – about how it’s kind of scarier to submit our poetry for publication because it feels more personal (still true!) – but I think you really should consider it. I just read through the last few you posted, and I enjoyed ‘red-mouth secrets’ but I loved this one.

    The first 2 stanzas are just oof, and I love the imagery in the 2nd to last stanza, and something about the ending stanza gets to me. “everything else is just fuel” – what a line. xo

  2. tehlorkay says:

    thank you so much for this comment!! I’m super bad at moderating my blog comments haha, but this made my day. I am considering writing a few new ones for submission, and possibly taking some of these down so I can submit without conflict.

    this is a lovely push in the right direction ❤

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