I have been a raging fire.
I have been an overflowing cup,
Overflowing with guilt;
I wash it down the sink.
I have been too much for everyone:
Too bold,
Too shy,
Too lustful,
Too innocent.
I poured a bucket of ice on my head
To simmer me down a little bit,
And now that I am freezing,
And I cannot feel the fire no more,
I have met you, the blaze.
And your warmth was burning off my skin,
And it was melting my face off,
And it was too much.
Far too much.
You have given me light and burning warmth,
But I cannot handle the smoke.
I now know how he felt.
I am choking,
So I have left.
I will be too little and too much on my own.
I do not need a spark to jolt me.

January 30, 2025

I will write today. I will write about something totally abstract, but the knots will untangle and form a photo of you. I will try to ignore you, I will try to not write about you, but today, I will fail.

September 28, 2033

I will have forgotten about you for many years, and on this day, when I go to write a grocery list, your name will flow out of my pen. I feel like a fire when I think of you.

June 22, 2056

I will remember you today, and I will be okay with it. I will think about you with a smile on my face, and I will be content.

June 16, 2091

Today is the day I will die, and when seven seconds of my happiest moments are flashing through my mind, I will not see you once, and I will perish with a smile.