Decided to experiment--three words per line. Let me know if it works, or if it unnecessarily breaks up the flow.
Fire like waves--
severe passion blossoming,
crashing into the
walls built around
hearts, hardened to
protect the tender
flesh inside, that's
screaming, thrashing, aching,
dying under the
suffocating weight of
the dark, brittle cast
clumsily rendered in
amateur attempts to
patch away pain.
Come, little one,
come to the
fire; it burns
and consumes and
bleeds away the
gunk, the garbage,
the caked-on goo,
the dung you
mistook for a
soothing, healing salve--
everything must go.
Yes, it hurts.
You are coming to die.
Die, little one.
Die to old,
live to new.
Is this phantom
life worth living?
Die, little one,
die to lies.
Come near to
me, come into
the fire. Come,
let yourself burn.
I can't wait
to see what
you will become.
