I was five years old when my mom told me to stay away from flames because they can burn you even if they look pretty. I was fifteen when I knew you were one of the flames that were too beautiful to stay away from no matter how much it hurt.
But how can something so mesmerizing cause so much destruction? I always questioned.
Not only were you an irresistible flame of everything I wanted, but broken glass. I still touched you, even if I was told not to.
It's funny, though. They say sometimes the one you want most is the one you're best without.
