“I guess you left me with some feathers in my hand”

The Brooks Fire came and went burning at 500 acres, he only gets deployed after 1500 so there is no chance he was sent here for the fire. Even still, not a word.

Two federal biologists collecting frog data in the Shasta-Trinity Forest were kidnapped at gun-point. Not a word.

The man who started the Park Fire was just found guilty of starting one of the most destructive fires in California history. You remember the Park Fire as the one which sent you over the edge, sent you packing your car with the animals and fleeing in tears to Vegas, tired of so many fucking fires. Park Fire was over 400,000 acres, you knew he’d be here for that one, but at that moment you weren’t talking. As he came, you left and later on all that would be said about the Park Fire between you was, “That fire was a real dick.” Now, after some sort of closure to the Park Fire, not a word.

You laugh, “he’s ghosted me.”

Well, I guess you left me with some feathers in my hand.

Did it make it any easier to leave me where I stand?

Why did you leave me ’til I’m only good for one thing…waiting for you.

You would think that being ghosted after fifteen years, would come with something more than a smirk and a ‘Whatever. Que se vaya a chingar a su madre’ but it didn’t. You erase his contact information, no point in over-loading your phone or your heart with data you won’t ever need again.

So many fires, so many songs, so many life-events in all those years, but at the end of the day what was the end-game. There wasn’t one. You may not be clear on what you want, but you are clear on what you don’t want.