I used to want to be your everything.

To consume and be consumed.

You were all perfect.

And then you weren’t.

And you ran. And I pushed

You pushed. And I ran.

I used to build bonfires. 

I lit them

I touched them.

Then I ran away.  Before you could.

Because the flames were much prettier than the ashes.

Because I couldn’t stop at building.  At igniting.

Part of me had to destruct it too.

To destroy meant it couldn’t be taken.

If I left

You couldn’t every truly abandon me.

I need you.  And you.  And you

So I’d make you need me instead.

Then burn it all down before you could un-need me.

Yet in each fire

I died.

Then I’d have to create another me.

It’s okay

None of then where truly real

Because there is no me.

I grieve them all though

I grieve them all


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