You, one step forward.
Me, one step backward.
"This is a bad idea",
I voice as stably as I can.
I am a menacing typhoon
Curated by the sighs and whispers
Of the burnt and the buried.
I am their reincarnation.
I am designed specifically
To be masked like a poker player.
Do you think you know me?
Too much behind these foreboding cards.
Your soft kind flame has rekindled
my combustible mould of stone.
But I must keep you safe from me
By keeping you at arm's length.
Don't be foolish, I am hard to love.
What did you think, honey?
The cherry-red beneath my eyes
Are no dark circles.
Constructive criticism is appreciated. Comment if you liked any specific parts of my poem.