Cinder Man

Do not open the window
when you wake up.

All night
you have been sleeping
and I have been burning
myself alive in the bed
beside you,
white hot blue
chewing up the sheets
as kindling.

I am ash and orange embers now,
I am barely lit now,
and if you open that window
the breeze will whirl in
and I’m afraid I might just
blow out.

You need to know
how easily
you could snuff me.

I do not want you to lose me;
I do not want to be lost.

This poem was originally published under the pen name Gabriel Gadfly.
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