I’m drawn to the things that burn
fingertips glidin along the edges of flame
testin how close I can get
how long I can hold on
before my skin starts to blister
I’ve traced my own fire down bodies
leavin trails of heat where I touch
each one a different kinda kindlin
all of them turnin to ash
while I burn never endin
maybe I’ve always craved destruction
the way it transforms…obliterates…purifies
hungry for that moment of combustion
for the silence that follows the explosion
for the power that flows thru my hands
I learned pleasure in the shadows of chaos
as sweat glistened like gasoline
in dark corners where passion is fuel
and matches struck against skin
just to watch it all catch and flare
I still chase that perfect heat
findin new ways to ignite
with hunger that will never be satisfied
my touch still sparkin where it shouldn’t
leavin nothin but beautiful ruin in my wake
you know I think this is really great I wrote a poem called molten feelings this morning but it was nowhere as great 💕
truly appreciate it
Somewhere between pyromancy and pyromania is a mesmerizing flame; though, I would say closer to pyromania when “leavin nothin but beautiful ruin in my wake”. Very interesting!
thank you angel
There’s so much to say about this piece, but let me just say I’m familiar with picking up the aftermath of my chaos after the destruction I created.
It’s not a current way of life, but I lived it long enough that the memory is etched in my cranium.
I’m so glad you’re posting here.
appreciate your thoughts. good to be here
Strongly relate. I feel like I’m always at war with self destruction. I don’t give in like I used to but the desire to set my world on fire never really goes away.
it’s a never ending war even after we’ve learned to navigate it easier.
Powerfully penned, Ambjr. Incredible write my friend. Appreciate you.
Damian
appreciate you too damian