By Kyle Marsland
Tonight, I will set my soul on fire.
Blister and lift my skin to the sound of the war drum,
To reveal nothing but guitar strings and white noise.
Tonight, I pray.
Singing hymns to the same run away bass line,
Don’t worry I’m fine.
I’m just unraveling.
Tonight, they will set him on fire.
Lighting commandments like matches,
Throwing them onto his bed while he sleeps.
Hiding and laughing in the blanket of night cause after all,
They are all just children,
And they all were taught to pray with a matchbook.
His screams of repentance and salvation fall off deaf ears,
And evaporate into the sky like smoke.
A few generations later we have the audacity to call it oxygen.
When you go to my home town,
If you walk the streets you can hear the music.
You can hear the release as the air around you gets lighter.
If you go into his hometown,
All you will find is an empty bed frame and the words in graffiti what if?
What if he lived in my generation?
What if he lived in my hometown?
What if all he needed was perpetual release,
From the one thing that he ever knew and loved instead of being burned alive.
Tonight, I will rekindle your flame,
Put it in a balloon and send it upwards,
In hopes that maybe you’ll see it and you’ll catch it and send it back down with a message.
Tonight, I will be your message,
I will go to any church and hold a sermon.
I will blast my DIY hardcore prayers in your name.
And when they ask me why am I screaming?
I will answer,
Because screaming is the only way I can be heard over the sound of your fires.
Kyle Marsland is a Spoken Word Poet from Scranton, PA. You can usually find him doing open mic’s around Scranton and the NEPA area. He has done various poetry slams around NEPA.