Boughs

You light old fires
with wet leaves and
damp sticks, hoping
to ignite some grand
forest fire in order to
feel validated, worth
something, still able
to captivate. But you
don't realize that
you weren't really
that captivating to
begin with. You just
threw the driest
needled branches
onto the flames
and made everyone
watch the show,
only to throw some
more on, as soon
as it started to
dwindle. You are
temporary,
you are fleeting,
and you're running
out of pine boughs.