Titles are Overrated

Part 118

You can't breathe,

can you?

It's as if a scorching heat

is burning your skin,

filling your lungs with smoke.

Setting fire to yourself

to light up the darkness,

to find a way.

Yet with a mouthful of ashes,

and blistered lips,

the darkness presses its own

to yours.

The extremity of breathing, 

of being -

it's agony, isn't it?

The flames will always burn,

and your skin 

will always be scarred.

But one day,

you won't be burning.

The flames will become warm,

a comforting embrace

late at night,

after a long day,

as you sit by the fireplace 

and bask in the dancing light.

Perhaps there's

beauty in pain

after all. 

no final quote - it's hot and turning into summer here, someone send help before I melt. My brain has already been burnt into ashes.