They dance as if they are alive
but then they disappear leaving me gasping for fresh air.
On another day at another time they return to haunt me.
I become lost in them.
This time they seemed bigger.
There are more flames, more flickering and more jabbing
points of fire hissing at me as if they are alive and talking to me.
I stare and listen as if I could hear the lips of the flame
or read the words they are writing.
Why do they return?
I do not seek them. I do not want them.
They are not warm.
I hold my hands to them
but a cold winter wind blows through them.
My fingers become frost bitten.
Why? I scream.
I know the flames would talk to me if I spoke aloud
but they scare me.
Am I crazy?
No one else seems to notice them.
They are mine!
They are mine to keep.
They are mine to keep forever.
But, why would I want them?
Why would I want cold flames licking at my body?
Why would I want cold flames
leaving spots of frost bite where my heart used to be?
The cold flames are all that's left of you.
My desire is to destroy them as you destroyed me.
I cannot.
They remain to haunt me
.
Your cold and burning flames are jabbing ice into my heart.
I cannot put them out.
