Fire was and is you,
But maybe less so now.

As if awkward sentences could ever
Capture anything about you,
The flame dances away from the cage
Or goes out when walled in.

You were a free spirit,
Dancing in too much oxygen
Until your appetite saw you too fed
And there was no stopping your newfound hunger.

Now you live as a pilot fire,
Carving out a meagre existence on scraps of air,
Waiting for the day you can be everything again.

Or maybe you had your chances and this is what you are now,
Tiny,
Struggling,
Afraid.

I would have ended you rather than see you so weak and powerless,
If only I would have known it would come to pass.