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Flame

I'm hugging a flame tight.
It was once small, so small I could simply hold it in my hands and toss it lightly between both. It was a reoccurring habbit that made my hands red and sore, but I cared very little.
I was once able to sheild myself from the warmth of the small fire and pretend it did not exist. But that allowed it to grow into somethimg more wild.
Too long I left it, and it grew larger and warmer as I got smaller and colder. It began to burn but it seemed to be the only heat I had left, so I held on and didn't let go.
It burned my chest and engulfed my shoulders in a firey mess I could not contain no matter how hard I tried.
It shreadded through my skin and then it slipped easily through between my bones, spiraling up to where my heart sat frozen and empty.
I allowed it to fill me with heat that made me boil and burn,
I allowed it to trick me into thinking that I was once cold and lonely,
I let it burn away my insides until my insides wete nothing but dust and I, just a flame.

I was frozen again. This time, it was worse. Much worse. I was frozen yet all of me burned, and my head was on the edge of exploding. I was stood on the side of a cliff, my toes just peeking over the egde. An unnoticed fire, burning me on the inside, but on the outside I was blank.
People would see me, but wouldn't read me before they judged me because they saw the same words written on my skin that were inked on everybody else's.
People didn't bother to touch me in risk of getting burned.
It felt like torture.

But then I was pulled back. Just like that, the fire calmed and turned back into a flame once more.