I'm Scared
So that the fire doesn't get me,
I'm scared.
I see the fire burning, definite, hot against the fur covering my body,
And I'm scared of it.
There is a chimney, once a thing so innocent and good,
Now not with wood but bodies fed.
Mine is next, and I regret to say,
That I am scared.
Ah, what is this, against face so hot?
Cold, cold moist, and wet.
Could they be tears? I never cry which makes me think
That I am scared.
I scream, the fames come dancing.
Don't touch my ears, my chest!
My cobalt fur is turned to ash
As I scream within the flames.
Dark and deep the ashes seep
Deep into my eyes.
I rub them out of habit 'cause
I'm scared,
And I will not admit it.
Later on, doth says the clock.
Mine eyes will follow through.
Oh! Look! I see
A clear-cut mirror just for me.
Fragile legs, I beg thee hold me
For just a few quick seconds more.
I wander over there to see
The me I have not laid eyes upon.
Oh! What's this I see?
I corpse is looking back at me.
His eyes are glazed over, nearly dead.
He looks like what he needs is to be fed.
But what I see is not a soul, not another do I see.
Mirror, doth thou show the truth?
Is this really me?