Poetry

Sustenance

It’s strange, being engulfed in a raging fire that doesn’t burn my dehydrated flesh, yet still able to breathe, as if smoke has become what my lungs require to sustain me. You put me here, somewhere between purgatory and hell, knowing exactly what you were doing. But I’ve made a home of it, adapted to it. And now that you’re here with me, it’s my turn to revel in your suffering.

Β© Sarah Doughty

For the #MayBookPrompts –Β When You Are Engulfed In Flames
Photo credit @sarapest.

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34 thoughts on “Sustenance”

  1. ‘But I’ve made a home of it, adapted to it. And now that you’re here with me, it’s my turn to revel in your suffering.’ I LOVE THIS!! And I love the edit as well. Well written piece.

    Liked by 1 person

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