The fire is consuming me, as it consumes everything it touches. It takes away my wallet, stuffed with hard won twenties. It takes away my favorite book, the one I’ve read twenty times. It takes my best t-shirt. It takes away my car and my new leather couch. It takes away my trophies and my mountains of debt. It takes away my bed, and my closet, and shelves, and my kitchen, and my perfectly arranged coffee table with its carefully selected stack of magazines.

It takes away the asshole at work who pissed me off last week. It takes away the boy who broke my heart last year. It takes away the people whose lives I envied. It takes away the bodies I lusted after. It takes away the celebrities whose very names awed me. It takes away my family. It takes my best friend. It takes them all.

The city is gone. The race is gone. The people, the places, the power, the game.
The hunger is gone, the wanting is gone. The fighting, the pushing, the blame.

The hatred is gone. The love is gone. And now I finally-