Burn

I'm tired of the paper fires
the burning black edges of my memories
I resent the crumbling pyres
every treasured moment temporary
apparently
The familiar feeling of disappointment
rising like smoke in my throat
I gag as the memory lights and bends
words flash in the fire-what they wrote
incoherently
I repeat the sentences I once read
I thought they were the truth
the graphite seemed to shine like lead
in the orange the letters say something new
transparency
all they assured me is now crystal clear
increasingly hard to believe 
I couldn't tell that passion was fear
They took what they wanted, when I couldn't see
furiously
the fire burns.