The mere thought of you sears me
Like an untamed fire.
I once approached your heat
For warmth, and for comfort;
Now I fear it more than anything.
I find myself constantly musing
Over the char marks you've left,
The marks which blemish my sensitive skin,
My sensitive soul.
They serve as a reminder:
A reminder of my immense naivety
And of the disappointment that I must often face
As you are not the first fire to have burned me.
Now, here I lay hopelessly
On my bedroom floor
Praying to God that I forget;
Praying that I can ignore the scars you've left,
And that I shall never be scorched again.