I Built This Fire

Alone,

I conquer,

really almost anything.
I've built this fire with my own hands. 

I survive just fine,

just me. I know what to do.

Raging and warm, bursting with pride,

I sit with it.

It's beautiful, these flames, 

that crack and crumble.

The light entices me,

and I waver between knowing

it needs to be fed but not smothered.

It can not grow without space to breathe.

So I shift the pieces to different places,

and it thrives.

But the brightness starts to scare me,

because I can't contain it.

I grow dizzy with worry

of its consumption,

that its power will destroy 

everything,

including me.

So I sit with it, again,

feeling its heat hit my face,

trusting the path of ashes as they fall.

Knowing I am the creator and destroyer,

the creation and destruction.

This whole cycle, 

is me.

And I am not alone