Flaming Memories

As I stepped into what was left of the access to the place I used to call home,
I was overwhelmed with lost feelings that had only appeared in my nightmares.
I looked around at the piles of ashes that were once items of pleasure and hope.
Pearls of sadness rolled down my suffering face leaving behind trails of despair.

I placed my hand on the burnt framing, recalling every time I had went through the door.
The last time I walked through it felt so long ago, I had to remind myself it was recently.
My hand was left with the stain of the black ash remaining on the wood, but it didn’t matter anymore.
I lost everything and everyone in this tragic blaze, so nothing would ever matter again to me.

I brought myself to take a shuttering step forward, as I did so ash swiftly rose from the ground,
Causing it to smear my clothes and face as if mocking my gruesome distress.
I walked through the piles of ashes still smoldering, evidence that everything I loved would not be found.
Evidence that I had lost my safe place, my memories, my family, and my happiness.

As I observed the remains of my lost home, I couldn’t help but imagine what used to be.
The house that used to be, the furniture and items that used to sit, the people I used to know.
I was reminded of fond memories and emotions that would forever be blocked by sadness and misery.
The sound of wood collapsing loudly, caused by damage from the fire yanked me back to my reality of nothing but woe.

Revisiting this horror I used to gladly walk about only reminded me I was alone, homeless, and filled with pain.
Everything I saw just left me feeling hopeless and all I wanted to do was give up everything.
I closed my eyes, spread my arms out, and fell back into all the ash and remains.
I let the ash consume me and I just lied there, breathless, slowly losing what remained of my hope and energy.