There was a man who loved a girl very much. He told her, he showed her, she never wondered if she was enough.
His eyes lit fires when she walked in. His aura danced when she was with him. They fit like a puzzle with a few bent up sides. They ignored each other’s flaws and over looked their disguises.
He couldn’t cope with what was writhing in his mind. Things were catching up, falling apart, he didn’t know how to run or hide.
He used the fire in his eyes to light up their life. He set fire to her curtains, her home, everything inside her he could find.
She shrieked in the flames and saw regret in his eyes; how can you be mad when you only see a boy and his tortured mind?
He found another arsonist to attack her with the fire. They both burn world’s and watch the smoke of their own lives swirl higher.
I couldn’t take the smell of smoke like she could. He burnt up my heart like dried out, old fire wood. I’m sure his lungs burn and that the heat hurts…but he seems content to just burn.