The flame of the match flickers as it inches closer to my fingers,
the warm glow illuminates my face, giving color to my skin pale with cold.
No warmth is felt as the flame reaches my finger and attempts to set them ablaze,
Just a dull ache as the heat gives life to a limb long since dead.

I've always known long before my body will succumb to the elements,
that my mind would fray and my feelings decay, senses worn away each day.
I always wanted to wear away the nerve endings in my body,
their signals caused chaos in the synapses of my brain.

Now that their unwelcome symphony has passed, I long for a sound.
The wave of sensations that used to ripple throughout my body is lost,
I long a wave of sensation to crash down upon me and send me spiraling into thought,
anything to give life to this monotone existence, cold and listless.