Burn me at the stake

have you burned yourself

on purpose

and told someone it was an accident?

I did it to see

if I could feel;

I wanted to to know how it felt.

I wanted the feel the heat,

to understand

the fire’s truth.

I wanted to know my limits.

I wanted to know if pain had a boundary. 

When do the nerves die?
Does it get so hot it feels cold?

I used to scald myself

as a little boy by running

a hot bath

and climbing in as it was still steaming.

I liked how it felt.

I liked how I had to question if

I should do it,

if 

it would burn me and,

if so,

how badly?

It was

always a search for experience,

for meaning,

for feeling that this body is real.

As an adult,

I wonder how to burn myself more.

I’ve used a lighter

and it just isn’t the same.

I’ve tried the bathtub and it doesn’t work like it used to.

Recently,

an industrial toaster and grill

gave me the scars

I find so satisfying.

What if I sat in the inferno?

What if what matters more isn’t

the walk through the fire,

but to see how much of you is burned away

and how much remains?

I want to burn myself like I used to.

I want to answer all my questions.