You carried fire in your hands,
and I mistook it for warmth.
Your laughter lit corners
I thought had gone dim,
and for a while,
the world was made of light.
I should have known
how easily joy can burn,
how quickly touch
can turn to smoke.
When you left,
the air still shimmered,
as if your spark
had nowhere else to go.
I thought the fire would die,
but it only moved—
from your palms
to my chest,
from your breath
to my words.
Now it burns quietly
each time I remember you,
each time I write.
Even from across oceans,
I still see your glow
flickering in my pen.
About the Creator
ᔕᗩᗰ ᕼᗩᖇTY
Sam Harty is a poet of raw truth and quiet rebellion. Author of Lost Love Volumes I & II and The Lost Little Series, her work confronts heartbreak, trauma, and survival with fierce honesty and lyrical depth. Where to find me
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Center Stage with Gina C.
*** I'm keen to republish the interviews I did for my series with Vocal creators. It's been a few years and I thought it might be nice to revisit these wonderful conversations. I'll be releasing them one at a time for a few weeks/months.
By Heather Hubler5 days ago in Interview
Comments (4)
The pen really is mightier than their words.
Lovely poem, Sam. These lines in particular I thought were lovey: "When you left, the air still shimmered, as if your spark had nowhere else to go."
So many good Lines in this poem, I can’t list them all. Great work the ending, rounded it out perfectly.😍
This poem really captures the good and bad sides of a fiery relationship—how it can make you feel warm and loved one moment but then burn you the next and affect you long after the person is gone. Well done.