Another HS throw back. Good times
A fire burns in you like Olympus’ peaks.
I know not what it is you desperately seek.
Still I don’t care, burn me.
In your eyes I can see the crimson flame,
That wells up in you like a back draft, untamed.
I’m not afraid of it, burn me.
Your touch is hot, enveloped in your energy,
Running in circles, ever searching occasional insanity.
I like to play with matches, burn me.
Envisions of happiness dance about tauntingly.
Confusion leaves you to swing clenched fists angrily.
Any sensation is better than none at all, burn me.