I’ve written it before. Burned the words. But they come back to me more and more.
I don’t want or mean to ruin or light up what I touch. I am no gold touched king; but I surely don’t want to burn down all of the pretty things.
There are flames that I coax into lighting. I’m breathing kerosene without even trying. You are the last thing I wanted to burn. But I burn everything down. I don’t know how to change, it’s all ash all around.
I’m sorry your skin has been scorched by my touch. I wasn’t trying to hurt you or set you ablaze. I didn’t know I started fires with a cursory gaze…
You hurt me, too. Two fire signs are so flammable they don’t know what else to do.
I love you.