Inferno

My fingers are vibrant flames that shoot sincerity one second, hate the next and ignite with every caress. You are warm until the heat begins to eat at the skin and devour your spirit, while you try to find a way to reach out to me. But none are immune to my scarlet touch, you throw water that vaporizes around me and yet you keep stroking, then I keep burning. But the nips heal, leaving scars that fade and every time you anguish harder and smile less until one day the crimson digs too deep. And chars your golden souls burnt, so you leave with your scalded heart incurable. I want to suffocate my flames, or drench them dead, to see you again without facing how much I destroyed you inside and out. This pain is brighter that just my fire, than my touch melting off your hope layer by layer, turning to blue sparks and glowing coals. It is always there, hiding behind the shadows of chars and scars, a mess of vehemence smashed together that rips me apart from within. When it comes out, in searing agony and torment, it grabs the reigns of my brain and it yells and screams a wailing cry. It crams into words into my head till no other anxiety can fit, animosity that breaks through the blindfold that covers my heart from seeing your burns. It opens me up to the carnage I leave in my path and the stabs of hate are thrusted into me, in hopes to douse the arson it doesn't want me to inflict. But it is too late and you are just a wisp of smoke, slowly becoming whole again, and me stuck between watching you burn with me and wanting you to be unscathed.