Phoenix Song

by M. Allshouse

I whispered devotion in your ear

like it was breath leaving my lungs—

as natural as breathing,

as if it sustained me.

What am I if I don’t love you?

I showered you

with every thought that poured from my lips—

cool, refreshing waters

perfectly temped for your mouth.

I bathed you in praise,

salt-sweet and sacred.

I made my life loving you—

and without it,

what will I become?

Empty.

Stagnant.

A pool breeding bacteria and disease.

Because without you,

I find I have no compassion

for anyone else’s needs.

I thought these waters came from my soul—

a waterfall cascading

against the caverns where your heart…

should be.

But now that I have nothing left to pour,

I see the truth:

these waters were pumped from me

forcefully—

only to collect

in this stone plot

for your neglect

to wrap around my throat

and drown me in it.

My love for you was not my life.

No.

I see it clearly now—

it was my demise.

But despite the putrid water

filling my lungs,

the final note hasn’t been sung.

Because while you thought

I was a songbird

tricked into singing your praise,

in reality—

I am a phoenix.

And now,

I’ll rise from the grave.