Pieces, just fragments – bonfire ashes
Blown up into the air by the moments
That lay within. The embers
Blackened, burned, but waiting
For that spark of reignited burning pain
To make a flame of me.
Lynch mob of memory lingers,
Waiting to break my bones, beat the crap out of me.
Blackened and burned yet seductive, Nemesis waits still
To come out of the flames for me.
© 2016 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

2 thoughts on “Fractures

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