Burning Bright in Black

The sky is burning—

bright in black—

like a wound

that forgot to close.

And I’m sitting under it,

alone,

with a chest full of ashes

and eyes carrying storms

that don’t know where to break.

The world keeps sleeping.

But my heart—

my stubborn, sleepless heart—

refuses.

It keeps

striking matches in the dark,

keeps

calling a name

that will never

ever

turn back.

So here I am—

in this night,

in this quiet,

in this loneliness

that glows like coal.

The sky is burning—

bright in black—

and I burn with it.

Quiet.

Unseen.

But still—

still…

on fire.