What is the burn?
I know it's there
like a child playing hot lava
on a floor with no white spaces

it fulfills all of my good graces
leaving me with a bullish bitterness
i thrive on this

its a feeling that no one could ever miss
yet i long for as i cling to the molten floor
it dismisses me as if i pretend to exist

its carefully curated within my lackluster structure
I am merely a byproduct of the painfully chilling burn
maybe i've grown cold, and its the burn of dry ice on my bare skin
maybe, it's within

I can take no action until i decide whether or not its fire or glacier
fore one wrong more will either cause me to melt or incinerate

but like i said, i've grown accustom and attached to the burning sensation
sometimes I have a drink with it and we cope through the inebriation
but at the end of the day, I sleep soundly on my smoldered sheets

thats the issue
I don't mind it anymore
i need to stay awake
I need to live