Poetry

maternal flame

 I is the only concept you understand,
You survive on destruction.
Fuelled by envy, enmity
        And fear
(yours and mine).
Any good about you is suffocated, consumed.
        Bitter at your lot.

Your toxic fumes ignite him
Then you cower in his shadow,
Smouldering, enjoying
The kick
The slap
The punch
His rapid combustion dies quickly.
You seek more fuel.

I became you,
but not you,
not ever.
My flame now yours
Your smouldering toxicity now a beacon
The fire that scarred me is now extinguished,
Its seat is as cold as
                          my mother’s kiss.

Michelle Cardwell