Scorched arms buried around the flames of the sun in a cave,
My eyes told me it was greed, stupidity, self-sacrifice,
But then again,
What could I see
Besides the hell in front of me,
Where tendrils of smoke brushed my hair and whispered in my ear.
I turned to look at a firefly, and you were gone, leaving
Clean air, but my lungs longed for smoke, my hands for fire,
Your fire.
I had to find solace in my silence;
Otherwise, I was powerless
to hear anything over the pounding of my own
weak heart.
Ba-dump.
Boom.
Thump.
Flutter.
I shook so violently in the cold.
Clawing at the walls of my little, dark cave,
Tearing out my hair, the hair you cut, in handfuls,
I was blind
To the gaping hole of blue sky
Shining a halo onto my battered head.
I only wanted the burn of your embrace.
Oh! How I ached to scream in agony,
Or rather, what I thought were cries of love
At your presence, that was sometimes, not always, there.
I found bliss in the roaring inferno of your cold and distant heart.
Oh, how I longed to grab it,
Your heart,
To take it for my own, I would be forever yours,
Docile to your flames reaching out to caress my cheek ever so gently,
Leaving marks and burns on my longing skin.
I cannot tell what is emptier: the cave or my chest.
Goosebumps, a raging fever, frozen fingertips,
Look at the state you left me in,
For I depended on your unpredictable warmth.
But in the bitter, numbing breeze,
As I heal my arms, my hands, my hair,
My head, and my foolish, inadequate, little heart
By myself,
I see my charred skin,
the wounds you left, and the baby pink, soft skin
showing through, in its infancy, it has so much potential
Lest it is scorched again
by your unrestricted flames, you so joyously released on me.
Once I've soothed the scared little kid in my heart,
Who was scared of fire and scared of you, and once I've ripped
All the bandages off,
I'll be free
As I've learned to love the cold.