When there is nothing left to burn

Stillness. A quiet moment under a street lamp served as nothing more than a realization of just how somber my life is. All this was once just a tiny black speck inside me.. till I fed it with misery and desolation, letting it manifest and spread inside me till it wore my body like a shell. Feeding on my insides, my veins, my arteries, my intestines, my organs; quietly licking me dry like flames flickering at the ends and turning everything it touches into dust. With my own hands, I fueled the flames and watched my investments reap and myself fade to nothing. That reflection of immense sadness in my eyes? That was you. Then out of no where, like a cardigan draped safely over a sick little girl, I felt warmth. Among the ashes you light a tiny spark of hope; a rising phoenix. Honestly I sometimes wonder if I'm subconsciously trying to snuff it out in desperate fear. Despite this, strong safe hands reached out to guide me to redemption, to a world I once knew and loved. Reluctantly I intertwined, warming to the idea and finally feeling.. bliss. But that constant fear that I can't shake? It's the absolute fear that this spark could just be a beginning to an even more dangerous and deadly fire.. cos there really is nothing left to destroy.

Your ex-lover is dead.