Someone Might Just Steal Your Seat, Honey

the flames swerve ever so slowly.

with each second, the desire to grab the danger lying so closely in front of me expands, tries to delude me into thinking that it will only be a tiny sting. branded and ashy, the first crackle of fire begins to fill the starry night, begins to pervert the innocent air with it's prominent and foul smell. "it won't hurt so bad, just pick it up. you'll save the grass underneath it. be a good little girl, now, won't you?" whoever whispered that into the polluted air, I’ll never know. but I gave in to my sweet temptation, smoldering into the nucleus and transfiguring into nothing but ruble. at level with the fire, sadistically it begins to move fervently along with the angry wind, yearning to be saved, yearning to be lifted. as my fingers tap the burning wood, almost a hiss is heard out of the wild fire that has begun to cling, not to my fingers as would seem logical, but to the root of my heart; that has begun to clasp it's agonizing sting around the soles of my most inner memories, to the newness of my heart, and devour the innocence into it's dead, miserable soul. an image of a young boy seems to form in the center of the fire, one which takes away the pain, one which seems to extinguish the searing heat playing along the organ which keeps me breathing, which keeps the blood circulating in me.

no. not now. not again. not when I just dragged my feet along the leaves in this long and lonely forest, with nothing to cling to but the memory of the one who left me in the cold with memories playing at my tired eyes. I’d made my way here because of that one, because of the journey that was the revival of my heart, the trail to no longer have to live in the depth of those memories. and now, as he all but tickles my memory, someone is being branded into my heart, being fitted nicely so that ill have something to ponder over.

and at the smallest wisp of air, the fire is gone, and I’m left with the aftermath of blazing heat still settling in my heart, with the image of this beautiful boy sitting in my head.