Why does one feel the need to taunt fire.
Dangle just above.
Inticing pain.
Disregarding consequence
As if bathing in such might just scorch away the sins still felt.
From the last searing moments.
Is it hope.
This irrational graspless object.
That most won't leave the house without it.
Tomorrow..
Must be the time in which truth is found.
Even if questioning existence to faceless figments is the requirement.
Over and over does the rabit hole disintegrate the mind.
Until.
The next choice is presented.