The Arsonist

This poem talks about the thoughts I have, either suicidal or things that went on in my home.

Burn it down,

My house of little bad dreams

 

My fantasies call themselves ghosts

Leading me down what roads, I don’t know

 

I fell asleep, and they told me

To put a gun to their heads

 

They screamed at me, but

I fought, and I kicked

 

With so much pressure

On my shoulders, I had to (because they began to revolt), but

 

I will gladly sleep on the streets

With the devil himself (those fantasies, they made me),

 

Watching my house burn

Down to the ground with those ghosts in it

 

But I had no time to rescue

My mother and her boyfriend (my brother and sister were never there)

 

 They slipped away

With all my fantasies and far off perfect places

 

So long,

To my house, that I called a castle

Author's Note

I'm not sure if this poem understandable. Any thoughts?

Reviews

[Rose Tyler]

Very much understandable, it's the thoughts of an arsonist which don't actually have to make sense to the outside world.
Exceptional writing, and powerful too. I love all of your writings and hope you continue with it because you're extremely good.

[NoneOfYourBusiness akaK..]

it is understandable~ the view through the arsonist mind~ vibrant and terrifying~
exceptionaly visual~ you've achieved the equilibrium between the craft and the subject~ in other words~ knowing just how much verbal force to use in composition whie still remaining clear about the subject matter~ in powerful writing sometimes it happens that the writer overwhelms his topic by going overboard with descriptives~ here you show faith in the reader to comprehend the writing by using the perfect balance ~