A dream that I shared with my therapist

A WNW poem

I had a premonition that I was paper,

and he carved his fears into my skin.

When I asked why his father’s name was spelled out

across the love line that splinters my palm,

he caught me on fire,

and me, his fears,

and his father’s name

were consumed by the House of Blais,

and I was confused with all of it in a plume of smoke

that could never be dispersed.

His hurt was an illness that spread to me,

making me blind to what I believed.

I became as rabid as a good dog growling

or a moth on fire pumping its wings,

trying so hard to escape the destruction it only fueled.

Thank you,

for not being afraid of getting burned.

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Picture found on Pinterest

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Word Not World series is an interactive anthology where I show a picture, and use the words inspired by the picture to make a poem, such as this one. This poem was inspired by the words, “burn,” “distort,” and “premonition.”

If you would like to participate in next week’s Word not World series, keep an eye out on Instagram @enis.st.sparrow and here on St. Sinjin, I will post a new picture on Sunday.