Scorching

People were always drawn to me.
I tried to warn them of the danger, but they were mesmerized by the glow.
Try as I might, I could never fully control the flame.

I’ve burned them.
I’ve left scars.

Though most would say they had no regret, I could not bear the guilt.
I hid my fire.

I showed myself only to those who burned others with their frost.
Foul winds were sent from their lips; feeding me, fueling the flames.
The breath of corruption transformed my blaze into a monstrosity I could not accept.

Again, I hid.

So here I sit, talking to the shadows that my flares cast around me.
I speak of the joy of being myself again, unhindered by another.
While not untrue, my words mask the longing within.
The yearning for one who won’t be singed.

One who does not fear my brilliance.
One who is inspirited by my flickering.
One who finds glory in my warmth.
A flame to match my own.

I’ll find it one day. I must.
Life cannot be so cruel that such a passionate heart must live without sharing it.
It just… can’t be.