Rising From the Ashes

Rising From the Ashes

Our fire,
how it had burned,
roaring at the sun and moon,
a lion of our affections.
Yet, with any dangerous animal,
there was always a chance of getting hurt,
one that neither of us really considered
until we were both scorched,
consuming us,
covering us with scars.
For the longest time
we have been rolling in the ashes,
our flesh peeling and cracking,
our hurt one and the same,
yet different monsters all together,
dragging us in opposite directions.
But now,
kicking and clawing at our captors,
we've both freed ourselves
from these beastly emotions
in hopes of rekindling the flame.
But not as we once have,
but a new sort of pyre,
calm and collected,
a friendly sort of flame
rather than an impassioned one.
Clasping hands with one another,
we rise from the ashes,
looking towards a better future
where are wounds are licked clean
and our scars are not so prominently worn,
but settled comfortably within
these history books of our lives
we call bodies.