Flame Poem by Maximus D. Redwood

Every scratch they make at me burns like a million flames in my soul.
Every scratch I have made back of them hurt them none,
As if I were just playfully patting paws on them like—
Like some cat not to be taken seriously.
Flames get lit inside of my chest.
They lick at my heart.
But I'll never let it out.

I figured out how to fix the scratching.
Just make them look like a joke and their harassment will pause.
I am left alone for days at a time and—
And I feel this peace inside of me until an old friend told me to stop.
Flames get lit inside of my chest.
They lick at my heart,
Flicker in my ribs.
But I'll never let it out.

My friend is now doing all of the scratching and it burns like a million and one fires in my soul.
I cannot scratch back nor make him look like a joke,
I just stay silent and—
And take it, even if it hurts.
Flames get lit inside of my chest.
They lick at my heart,
Flicker in my ribs,
Burn my lungs.
But I'll never let it out.

My friend's scratching gets worse and he also avoids me.
He tells me that the way that I defend myself makes me the same as those who scratched at me.
I want to scratch back, prove him wrong, make him look like—
Like a joke, make him feel what he makes me feel, but I stay silent.
Flames get lit inside of my chest.
They lick at my heart,
Flicker in my ribs,
Burn my lungs,
Ignite my insides.
I think I need to let it out.