Blame

Can’t you hear it crackling?
Blame hides fire inside.
The flame flicks outwards.
You! Her! Them! Not me.
The heat of blame is a pointed finger,
pointed away, keep it away!

Blame feels hot and righteous.
But it’s a trick, a sleight-of-hand. A lie
that hurts both ends of the finger.
Blame hides fear inside.
I could combust! Ai, conflagration!
Blame’s a fiery ruse of fear.

Did she blame me? My conjecture, nothing real.
I’ve tried to get round to living
life as simply What Is.
When I arrive at that perspective,
the fuel of fault, and whose it is,
curls up into nothing, wafts away to stars.

I change the habit,
give it up like smoking.
I’m learning to trick the trick.
Now I practice no-blame, quick,
I pour my cool water thoughts
all over the fuel of blame.

©Susa Silvermarie 2025