Uneasy and numb are the hand and the lighter. They dance together before the fire, not thinking of destruction, only enjoying corruption. once a wildfire spilt into the wilderness, and the spark still lingers day after day — a stale burning of understanding. My need to be needed, and his wildfire life burnt the bushes down; we watched the ashes subside. This is what our togetherness looked like — uncovering all of the figures hidden in the shadows. They would chase him day by day round and round his tortured mind. He in the shadows and I in the light. Running and jumping, shouting, “this way!”  He failed to hear. Darkness is all too loud in his forest. He turns his face knowingly, careful not to look at the flames. I chose patience in that race. He needed a steady hand, a voice who knew how to call upon the light. But how long was it until the pressure suffocated my sunbeam strides? The fire may be over but now as ashes drift closer and closer still to my face… covering my body in the ash-filled darkness and distancing me from his shadow.