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.