When you ask me that question.
When your eyes plead
for me to say something.
When you want a little lie
or concession,
just a little splash of cool water
to squelch the flame.

I stare back.
Empty. Black.

I can't lie.
Despite the hurt,
this controlled burn
of low ground foliage
and scrub trees,
will, eventually,
make way for the life
strong enough to last.

I wont let that volatile fuel
build up
until it chokes out
those beautiful sentinels
just beginning to grow.
And even the smallest spark
unleashes a fire
that wont stop
until every branch and beast
crumbles ashy into the breeze.

Dead.

I take a deep breath.

I got nothing to say.
I'm just gonna fiddle my fingers,
watch you squirm
and let you figure it out
as it quietly burns.

*A little bit of pain never hurt anybody,
if you know what I mean.