Devil's Night Poem by Chase Gagnon

I warm my hands with a lighter in the chill of late October, after burning fallen leaves and scattering their ashes onto a sea of broken asphalt. I have nowhere to go, and I almost hope they find me out here after the curfew and take me away to somewhere warm. It's unseasonably cold, and snowflakes dot my black hoodie giving it the appearance of a universe of stars building on my hunched body. The glow of this burning city drowns out the real stars, and I don't know if I believe in them anymore. What proof do I have?

I can feel myself shaking, and it gets worse the harder I try to stop it. I hear sirens over the charred rooftops that are the remnants of this twisted holiday. But I guess I'm an arsonist too, burning myself with cigarette butts just to feel something. I think this city feels nothing too, so maybe that's why they used to burn it on this night. F**k the police, I'll burn my skin all I want until it peels, or until I'm picked up and locked away for the night. But once they see these fresh cigarette burns they'll probably take me back to the psyche ward instead. I'm totally aware that I'm not very sane, or does knowing that make me sane?

How long can I hold my hand over this flame? I can't last more than three seconds, so how am I supposed to satisfy this aroused urge to make myself hurt? Is this how I'll live the rest of my life, sitting on the curb and listening to sirens and pretending they're the cries of a banshee? Devil's Night is the best night to hear sirens... But Detroit isn't dying anymore. They just leveled Cass Corridor and are building upscale apartments and a stadium on that scarred ground near midtown. Eventually my house will be leveled too, probably after being burned. My ghost will be lost in a strange maze of luxury built on the ground where so many bled to death. What am I supposed to haunt when everything I know is gone? Maybe what they say is true, that sins are purified by the flame. Maybe I can heal too.

The metal on my lighter got hot while I was thinking. And when I tried to resurrect that little flame from it's silver crypt, I burned my thumb and dropped it to the cold cement.


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NOTE: Devil's Night is a name associated with October 30, the night before Halloween. It is related to the 'Mischief night' practiced in other parts of the United States and the world, but is chiefly associated with the serious vandalism and arson seen in Detroit, Michigan.

Note copied from Wikipedia.