The flames that burn us rise to uncontrollable heights which are intimidating to my eyes.
You feel the heat and do not run, you play the role of a damsel in distress.
Unbeknownst to all, you have started the fire with intention.
You lit a match with your sharp tongue and when they asked how things got so out of control, you shrugged your shoulders and tightly crossed your fingers behind your back.
"Help me", you scream. "Save me before I am burnt beyond recognition."
Your ways are wicked and your tricks are unbecoming. When the flames surround you next I will not come to your rescue.
I will expose you for what you are and I will show everyone the book of matches in your pocket.
© 2021 Nicholas Mercogliano