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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.