I'm a paper
He's a flame
He's burning me alive,
Yet the moment is too beautiful to end.
I'm blackening:
the more time I spend with him, the worse I suffer.

Yet I never leave.

I can't picture life without him, without the danger of his fire.
Everyone is repulsed by his warning signs, pillars of smoke guarding him, while I breathe it in.

My friends tell me to leave,
before the
burns
become worse.

But I like the feeling of being enraptured by his heat.
I like how he burns me,
With scars that won't ever go away
And that's okay.