Burning

I pounded hard against the glass.

They couldn’t hear so I pounded more.

I pounded hard until my hand swelled;

My arms began to burn, the lactic burned,

It burned like a torch that fired the fire in my head.

I pounded. I pounded until the noise inside my head

Accompanied the rhythm on the wood

Of the door and I pounded some more.

I could endure no more,

So I pounded more

And more until I fell to the floor and cried

And cried.

And on the inside my family burned.

They burned inside.

They burned

And I died.