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Why are we not burning?
I am casual
in my room content
spending time with air conditioning
And I am not on fire,
In fact nothing is,
Everyone else in the world
comes unloading their problems
On computers and I'm sitting here
Fist pumping wild thoughts
Into my skull while aware that
I am not combusting currently,
There is a girl somewhere
About fifteen years too late
Writing apology letters to herself,
She is on fire
Burning down her friends
Leaving a trail of tender embers
Glowing under soft steps,
She will grow older
And younger with age
She will climb mountains
And dig tunnels,
On weekends she'll be the funnel
But despite her efforts she is on fire,
I wish to burn like her,
