Romanticized

It reverberates through me.

A flame, combustion.

Eyes made of glass,

Skin carefully tethered to bone,

made of paper.

In a second I know

I'll be turned to ash.

Being consumed

Never felt better.

In the night,

They whisper.

They curse each touch,

Wishing they were us.

They fall deeper as

We begin to wonder

What made our buoyancy

Stop.

It's been months.

Counting the days since

You've left me this way.

I'll reach out to you and

You'll push me away.

Rereading what you wrote

Makes the fire colder.

It stills clarity. And

I'm left chasing a

Dream.