I would be born of flame but turn to ash and fall apart at the touch.
My magic would take away the mean. Being a fish would carry me to the sea. Maybe if I were an Indian I would know my Grandmother.
What color will I become in my own fire?
I have never found more than $5 but I've seen clouds that look like horses with saddles made of sunshine.
My favorite part is that these words are not about my pain or my need for whiskey. They're about being able to change my skin, or maybe about learning to barter.
Once I was walking down the street and the only word in my mind was phoenix and then my knees just gave up. I sat and waited for a vision, then a man stopped and asked me what I was doing. I told him and he said, "The only thing you'll get here is mugged."
So, he took me to breakfast at a diner and I talked about phoenix and fish. He told me about beating his wife and he wiped a tear from his eye with soot on his fingers then he had soot smears on his face.
I feel like my head's in the bathroom and my stomach's in bed my feet are hanging from the ceiling fan.
And maybe sometimes there is no resolution, but my hair keeps growing and I'll always have Dancing with Wolves. I can work on being stoic. I can learn to swim against the current and, most importantly, I can hold the magic of feeling fear like inferno, feeling thoughts like a heart attack.
All that's left is learning the magic of solving little problems by not fighting fires with fuel.