Playing with fire (first part)

Thinking about you
Was like playing with fire
And I knew perfectly
That it could burn me
But I walked in straight
With my eyes fully opened,
And I wanted to get higher,
And I wanted to get closer,
And I wanted to get burnt.

Your fire was warm
And it was like a storm,
One that I could admire,
One that I should fear.
Your hands an art form,
Your mind that won’t conform,
And then my heart
that was completely torn
and I feared, would deform
Into something I would not
Be able to look at anymore.

(And why you? I asked myself,
It didn’t make any sense,
Except -your brain, your wit,
your voice in my mind,
that, that I could understand).

*

thank you very much for the warm welcome-back that I had, both here and in twitter, I could see that you like having me around throwing words randomly in a paper.

about this – this is the first part of something that I needed to do to clean myself, and I liked how it looked.