Miracle [Poetry from College]

September 23, 2018

I used to tell stories for prizes as I slid into the

skin of a new girl, already in character awaiting my turn

I listened to the other stories in my round and remember a girl

named Miracle who set herself on fire

to see if she was real—

Miracle, her character name, the real girl dressed in purple

my turn, losing focus

each time I stared down at the wide searing burns

stuck to me

red, remembering the sound

sizzling fried fresh when I forced the heated iron

holding, watching, waiting

feeling pain

as the welts rise like yeast

alive dancing with fury

until the pain ceased

I must force remembering as I stare ahead at the blank glass

pale sheet of empty nowhere eyes

white sick delicate ghost

already dead, not real

the wind

catch me

I think as the wind grasps her metal iron and waits to burn

Have you ever set yourself on fire to see if you were real?



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