Member-only story
Firebird Girls
A Poem
they say the world will end in fire —
but i never believed that for one moment
even as ice cradled my senses and made me weak
till i couldn’t see up from down or back again.
and i knew you through the glass,
as sweet as something from a dream,
until i couldn’t see the roots you laid down deep
in my ethereal psyche of hope and dreams and wanderings.
they said, “you’ll never make money from those words,”
as i spilled poetry from my veins for you over time,
and poems were always my first gateway
even if you don’t believe me when i say it.
i wrote about loss and love,
i wrote about lost queens,
i wrote about monsters in the closet —
and i see how her threads entwined with mine.
but i never had the siren’s voice,
or the agile body, or the sumptuous style —
and that’s why they always overlooked me
even as my words threatened to spill over again and again.
