I’m always finding myself writing about fire
Maybe because I always got so much to burn
maybe cause I’m a fire sign it’s easy
because I smell a hint of smoke on my skin
always can trace myself back to Salem
a hundred or so years ago a man ordered
a part of me to go up in flames angry
she never burned for him
I am living Daughter
of a witch you never got to conquer
maybe I got a price tag on this body now
why I need this hair all that ice in my eye
this tongue
why I look bad in red
why my grandma went out the way she did
burning for a man in her kitchen
maybe why I got all this anger
gotta hide in the forests
how I get all the neighborhood stray cats winding around my leg
why I was scared of matches for so long
arson got so much home in this bloodline
Chestina Craig, an intersectional feminist, poet, and scientist in training, lives in Long Beach, CA with her cat. Currently a student at CSULB studying Marine Biology, she spends her free time in the ocean, taking photos, and petting sharks. Her other talents include eating whole pizzas and falling in love with 7pm tangerine sunlight. She hopes to one day only be required to wear gauzy long dresses and dance in the sea.
I love this poem!