Familiarity

Familiarity

The solace it implores

Like decadent wildfire

And I seem to be,

Already burnt beyond

Any sense of self that could've

Been engulfed

By the wildfire that,

I seem to flee from and

in my safety blossoms an ugly

venomous

flower of loneliness but in a way,

Fuelling the very familiarity.

Oh, the solace!

I find in not burning

In this decadent wildfire

With no chance to rise like a phoenix.

But embracing the comfort

Of being buried

Under the weights of

The familiar, burnt, wilderness.