Fire Burning

A work I wrote during an emotional time, not sure if I like it, but here it is:

            A fire is burning brightly against dark landscape. Pluming, billowing smoke, black and dark seeps from the fire.  Transforming into a monster filled with a mixture of pure hatred, sadness and distraught, the catalyst to its creation the fire burning beneath it. Turning the inanimate to the animate, the byproduct of human’s confusing, conflicting incomprehensible emotions. Screaming like a banshee into the night, the monster spews its hurt and anger and resentment off into the world. “Can you hear me now? Can you feel my pain? How I hate you?”

Its eyes search the darkness looking for prey blinded by what it is-anger. In its eyes is what holds the most disgusting part of us.

The fire burns from logs of people’s memories, of bottled up anger and unanswered sadness doused in oil and set to ignite. The smoke, bits and pieces of the burnt up exploded emotion melded together in rising heat from the super nova built up to the sky. The monster screams again like harpies crying in pain, arms thrown back. Its hands drip in blood that was almost shed.

Alone in a field this monster lies. Waiting to be released, roaming around its small cage rattling the bars in frustration and impatience. Bubbling lava pushes against its transparent chest. Wanting to get out, feeling constricted, contained. The fire burns more and more as log after log goes into it, fueling it. Never does the fire die down, never is it put out. The monsters anger, pain, never goes away. “Something, anything, everything leave me alone, go away! ...When does it stop?”

The monster screams and screams and screams nanosecond releases of its agony only to be pushed back again and again into its chaotic body of emotions. The monster hates everyone, especially itself. The fire and smoke start blending together. Where does the ammunition start and the gun end? The monster grows, sharpens its claws, scratches at its confinement, clangs on the metal. Sparks fly in every direction, red hot tiny pieces of heat. Scratches, marks imbed itself into the bars of confinement, but nothing works. The monsters stuck. “Why can’t I leave? Why was I put here? How the hell is it my fault? What did I do to deserve this?”

The anger, which was a more short-termed burst of pain and energy, is now being eaten away by the sadness. The sadness is worse. The monster clutches its head, sharpening its claws hoping to break the skull. “Maybe then it will end.”

Its mouth a simple black hole, opens and never closes, forever screaming in anguish. Black steamy mist flows from its eyes like tears. “Is this all there is to live for? What else is out there?  Why can’t I enjoy that? What’s wrong with me?”

The sadness stays for a long time. The monster growing smaller, the fire not dyeing just diming down, its light isn’t so bright anymore but the heat is just as bad. The screaming never stops, the metal cracks but holds. The monster is still stuck, confined to this empty desolate field, forever held in night. Stars gaze down judgmentally at the monster. It looks up and feels nothing. Has the sadness ended? Replaced with something else, something worse? Apathy, the monster now feels apathy. The monster stopped trying to break its head. 

It stopped screaming, it no longer steamed mist. It realized…Nobody cared. It was just a monster. Why did its pain, anguish, anger, hatred, matter? It’s been screaming and screaming but that didn’t help. Nobody cared, so why bother? The fire still built up and up, the monster still grew. It was still the product of the super nova, the melded smoky emotions of the logs. But it didn’t feel anything except for tightness in its throat and a pounding in its head. The monster did nothing. It just stared at everything but the sky that started this. 

When the monster finally looked up at the stars, judging what it did or how it looked, twinkling down at the monster teasing. ‘Here I am, touch me, come on it’s ok, reach out, you’re close enough. Oh! What am I talking about? No you’re not. You’re too gullible, you should’ve known that! Tsk Tsk, just know better for next time.’

At that point the tightness in its throat went away, “Then why did you lie? I bet you find it fun. You think you’re better up there. That because you’re free and I’m not, that you have the right to judge me. Well you’re WRONG.” The hatred and anger, it came back. But this time it was truly short lasted.  The screaming once again commenced. The monster screams, a banshee now at the sky at everything. “I f*****g hate you! 

What’s your problem?! What the hell did I do to you?”

The fire flared again. With one final burst of energy, its sharp claws slashed through the bars making a small opening, just big enough. The monster’s free. Finally. The anger dissipated, in the blink of an eye…And so did everything else. The fire, the cage, the other emotions: all gone. In its place came nothingness. “Why am I here if I don’t have emotion? What purpose do I have?” The nothingness was so dark nothing could penetrate. It ate away the monster for without passion there is no monster. The smoke wafted away on the next unexpected breeze. To be carried off and distributed nicely by nature. The monster, some part of it, somehow, still there sighed with something strange and foreign: relief, as it was blown away.

“Finally, I’m free,” was whispered across the sound waves into the world.

Monster? There was no more.

Peace? Maybe.