In Place

by Tannen Dell

When life is one big moral debate between what you want and what you must not have…when a contract socially pins down your freedom of desire, a fire starts, the worst part of all is how cold this flame tongue is, how every breath is oxygen to build it. This is the point that drives all to cryptic hope, anger, depression and linguistic suicide. I freeze in the core furnace, I bleed these thick blue flames, I inhale carbon, I die until my heart starts beating.