I was choking.
I felt like someone had wrapped their hands around my throat n squeezed.
I cldnt see, as if someone mased me.
My eyes burned, they were running, irritated.
I cldnt see my hand in front of my face, thats a new kind of darkness.
That smoke was so dense  i cldnt inhale at all.
Once i tried all i cld do was cough n run to window.
Running didnt seem drastic at all.
I wldve just went thru it but there were still others inside.
I banged on the wall then the door until my knuckles got too bruised.
Then i moved on to the base of my hand, banging away, screaming fire, anxious at the first sight flailing hands and ppl in chaos.
I wanted my roomate to emerge but nothing cld prepare me to go get him.
I want him alive!
But i wasnt really willing to risk my life to do it.
I mean im no hero, im about to be the fatal victim of a house fire.
I stood at my bedroom door for what seemed like forever.
You know waiting for the flailing hands. And then!
I saw him. He had went back for his son.
We all 3 made it down the fire escape to the ever so reassuring arms of the FDNY.
We made it but at what price? We’re alive but so much was taken from us.
Its a wonder that a fire can consume ones past, present and future.

Posted from WordPress for Android


One thought on “Fire

  1. Pingback: Fire | Dredbeauty's Poetry Blog

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