Use of heat
engulfs your ends
Into a splintered crisp.
Every inch you sear
Irons out the curls in your mane.

Flick the lighter,
Spark up some magic
And bring that
Shy, crying ember
To your dry lips.
The harder you inhale,
The faster you burn.

Smoke sneaks around
Your body and
Encapsulates you in
A hazy plume.
The scorch marks on your arm
Emphasizes your need
For warmth.

You seem to think you’re
A phoenix by how often
You play with flames,
But how high will you rise?

Will the ashes you’ve left
behind provide you with
a rebirth
or purge you into
the hearth forever?

How long will your eyes
Stay ignited,
Because every time you
Play with snowflakes,
You become a dimly lit,
Sputtering flicker.