And when I say I love you, I think I do. But I’ve been here before. Same situation, different person. Thinking they’re here to save me. But all I find is that no one can save a burning woman.

Touch me and you will burn too.

The only difference this time is I don’t want to burn you. Call that love, call it what you want. But no one is following me to the grave this time.

How long does flesh burn? Am I bone yet? I feel like I was born in flames.

No one could calm my fury. My parents always knew. I’ve been told I shine. Did anyone ever think that maybe it was the fire? Not only am I fire but the gas too. Not just the gas but my own match as well. When the flames start to die, I ignite myself once more. After all, I’ve always known this heat.

Can’t let the fire die now.

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