Just there.
Not falling.
Not flying.
Not sinking.
Just there.
The fire consuming me.
Blazing through me.
Melting that ice.
Cold becomes a distance memory.
I scream.
The flames burn me.
I knew that frigid heart for so long.
Will this save me?
Recreate me?
I surely thought I'd die of cold.
Now I am charred.
Will this destroy me?

by Aimee Nell

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