My knees are blue like the flames
In the fireplace boiling my blood out
Home alone with the summer’s grief
My memories are just tenders to burn
I’m missing the mantelpiece hung
With family photos. I wish the chimney
Led straight to my throat to my lungs 
It’s been a dream of a house fire I’ve had
Since I was just five and learning to hit right
Since then I fall asleep with melatonin 
And locked doors so I could dream through it
Growing bed sores like flowers down my spine
But if I burned I wouldn’t mind much only if I
Didn’t have to watch it happen to the photographs