Grade
10
Up Into Flames
I was always told hate was a strong word, so I never used it
until now.
I hate this barn. The place where you used to be.
I still remember it like it was yesterday.
Even though it was two years ago.
I looked for you in a burning barn that is now in ruins.
The smell of the flaming wood that turned to smoke.
An unfamiliar face, the gas, the match.
Hearing your laugh, then scream.
The headache from crying
From smelling the toxic gas, smoke, and fire.
Fast forward two years--
I’m crying once again
there is no gas, smoke, or fire
Only black char on the once bright red wood.
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