Falling out of the Fire

“Falling Out of the Fire”
by Tiffanie Chin

There was a time I danced in the flames,
called chaos my comfort,
confused survival with strength.

The nights were loud,
my thoughts louder.
I wore masks stitched from old wounds,
hid my softness under smoke.

But the weight became too much.
Even wings get tired
when they carry guilt instead of grace.

Then came the fall—
not a crash,
but a feather’s descent.
Slow, quiet,
free.

This painting is that fall—
the moment I let go,
not out of weakness,
but from a knowing:
I was made for more than burning.

I drifted from the dark
into something gentler.
Not light all at once,
but flickers—
like forgiveness,
like breath,
like peace finding its way back to me.

Now I rise
not in flames,
but in freedom.