A Poem by Allie Esora

don't burn yourself out...


The burning,

must have happened when I blinked.

I only closed my eyes for a moment, 

but found myself prying apart pumice crusted lids,

cringing at the dryness,

at the hard salt stopping up sensitive tear ducts.

The soot smeared on my cheeks must have come from somewhere--

The ashes fluttering around my ears and from my lashes,

whisper, “fire, fire.”  

My finger-bones crackle, porous and splintering,

shedding misery-gray dust,

ever flaking off the rest of my skeleton.

What is this husk?

Echoing with the memories of something…

exciting? warm, bright, energetic? excruciating?

How many times have I let myself burn? burned myself?

How many times have I watched my teeth glow at the blazing in my skull, 

at my blackening hair, 

at the light scorching its way down my face?

Blisters and grins bubble up from charred skin--

How do I stop? 

I am not a phoenix-- 

When will the ashes mark my barrow?

© 2022 Allie Esora

Author's Note

Allie Esora
March 3, 2022 at 2:29am

We're goin through it besties. This is essentially a first draft, but I'm happy to hear any thoughts :)

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Added on March 4, 2022
Last Updated on March 4, 2022
Tags: depression, mania, bipolar, mental health, illness, venting, hypomania, cyclothymia, burnout, ashes, phoenix, dust, fire, soot, bones, sadness, emptiness, energy, insomnia, exhaustion


Allie Esora
Allie Esora

Austin, TX

I’m very new, but I’ve found that writing poetry has been a really positive outlet for me. I haven’t shared my work with anyone, and honestly I’d be scared to show it to someon.. more..

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