I fell in love with a pyromaniac.
The way he lit my heart on fire
and danced in the ashes
of a distant memory.

The way he lit my mind with words
of warmth and comfort
and reveled in the red shine
of my cheeks.

The way he burned down and destroyed
centuries of ice and cold and
loved every
destructive blow.

Still a pyromaniac does not know
when to stop and
soon
he lost control.

Now his fire is my ruin
and his words my downfall.

He ran from the ashes
of a girl he coaxed
from the recesses
of her cold self.

Still I ran after
and burned myself on the way.