I built a campfire over me, used my spirit as kindling,
added some branches,
layered log after log, log-cabin style,
lit it with a match.
The wood burnt,
things shifted after being singed to dark and lifeless hues.
More branches,
matter changed,
chemical reaction,
all the same.
I’m now trying to find the ashes of myself at the bottom.
Photo by takenbytablo from Pexels
The Yellow Brick Ave 