Letters In My Head

Wildfire

Your face is fading as time goes on, it's being pushed into the back of a wildfire that I can't control but am grateful for, i'm watching it pixelate into a thousand tiny pieces and my heart is slowly letting go of you, silly me though because i'm still chasing after the motions that caused the wild fire in the first place and with burning feet I seem to be leaping over what ifs, maybes and could have been without a second thought. 

Never thought I could look into someone eyes and be swallowed by such hatred yet so much heart, never thought i'd regret being nice and I never thought i'd wish never to meet someone that i've crossed paths with multiple times. You see this anger, this power I hold has been weakened by a million fingerprints that I wish I could erase from the temple of my body that I have to feel so ashamed inside. This castle I've built around myself is slowly coming down and I wish I had control over what to feel but honestly I feel nothing at all and i'm unsure if it's better than being sad all the time but hey, that's life. This label that you have pinned on my back and these thoughts you have planted inside of my head almost found home but then you take them away and now I have nothing left but empty rooms and doors I wish I could lock back up but you've taken the keys and I don't have a spare pair. 

You had nothing to loose, nothing worth fighting for really and I gave you every piece of me that was left and now i'm just a skeleton with a few layers of skin but you, you're the damn wildfire that's burning my feet, that's choking my breath that's starving my lungs of oxygen, you have part of me that I wish you didn't and you're giving it out like it's a popular candy, like i'm some sort of sweet that you cannot get off of your tongue so you bury yourself into someone else's hugs.

Whilst I bury myself into more books so I can escape my reality that no one really understands, that no one really knows and I'll lay there and cry and i'll read about how Peeta saved Katniss in the first hunger games whilst trying to scrub your kiss off of my lips because it's left a damn imprint, and that imprint is a constant reminder of what could have been.