Venting Why.

[willow_tree]

Why did you leave me. Why did you hold me down till my skin bruised. Why did you stay up all night on the phone with me, only to start talking down on me the next. Why did you hate who I was, but also seem to love me so deeply? But most of all why, why do you think I am such a monster when you laid your hands on me. Why did your words that cut deeper than a knife feel natural to you. Why did your fiery rage, sneaking out through the cracks of your mask always seem to burn me. Why did the fire, so beautiful to watch for afar, until I knew it would burn, captivate my heart so deeply. Why did I love you so deep. Why did you claim to? or did you love me? Could I be loved? Could I be loved by the flame even while it licks me to the bone while only ash remains. Why are you standing there, watching the fire, your eeire cackles radiating down the cavern of of my heart, cruelty echoing off the walls. Why did you say you can't speak to me. BUt you answer my every call. You watch me. You wait. Hanging in the dining hall, watching me. I feel your once ever-longing eyes, daggers in my back. I love you. I love the flame, I don't care how much you will burn me. My friends see the fire and they ask why. They ask how I could love something so destructive. But have they been to enough bonfires? Have they stayed awake at night, slowly watching a candle burn out to its very last second of light. Have they felt the warmth that traveled through my frozen, numb body when I sat by your side, the cuddles you would give once the storm was out. There is a whole in my heart that has a fire-sized whole, accepting the destruction that will come with it. I want to burn, even if I burn to death standing next to you. Please let me burn. Please.