Empty House

By Vanessa McLeod

drip drip drip the leaky faucet goes. smoke billows from the stove my skin shivering in the prickly heat feeling the ash litter my surroundings as i sit in the middle of the kitchen unmoving

the roughness of the air travelling through my lungs the jarring sensation cursing my throat

i willfully tasted the sweet yet utterly bitter atmosphere gulping down each drop like it was my last

consumption is freeing. acceptance is power. i imagined the glow of a coszy fireplace its warmth engulfed my soul

nevermind the detector it died out years ago after all, what’s the harm in breathing?