He shined bright
burning like the giant sun
drawing me to him
close
with his magnetic pull
into his strong arms.
I shouldn't have enjoyed
how close we were.
Or his warm breath on my skin,
tickling it like the soft
caress of a feather.
A black feather
as dark as his soul.
My aunt warned me about
men like him.
Hot as sin and
hotter to the touch.
But I was a curious thing,
and thought surely the
sun can't burn that much.
It did.
Scorching my skin with his
every touch,
setting a fire blazing inside
me.
As much as I tried to extinguish it,
you can't.
It was good at first.
He was good at first.
But in the end,
the sensation was too much.
I shouldn't have fallen for him.
I shouldn't have played with fire.
I thought of Icarus who flew too close
to the sun.
Was that my fate?
To be burned alive?
If so, then I hope for one more
moment,
just because he makes me feel so alive
that I will survive.
