The Fire Meant to Kill Me

He left me with one day to move everything. After years of erasing myself to please him, he discarded me like a forgotten object.

I cried as if I were being led to my own execution.

It felt like walking to the gallows.
I was forced to build the fire where I would be burned at the stake.
I stacked my own wood.

But the fire did not consume me.

It refined me.