Annar in the Inbetweens

Sometimes, I feel like my soul is on fire
With wit, with love, with a melancholic despair
that pushes me to write
and run
and take long walks at 3am
      with a horn strapped to my back
      and my adventure notebook
            in the pocket
            of my coat.

In my sleep,
I shake it off,
I dream of flames
and touching things
   that turn to dust.

I’m on fire,
I’m on fire,
and this is how
I’ll someday die.