Firestarter

There lies within me the propensity for a great love.

My heart a white hot coal, searing and bright with desire.

With each beat the flames are fanned, my whole being simply kindling to burn.

Though I am engulfed with yearning, there has been no one to give my warmth to.

I fear that, if left alone and untended for much longer, the fire within me will be smothered.

It will sputter and flicker and turn cold in my breast.

With no oxygen, no room to grow, and no food, this coal will become a dully glowing ember before long.

Hope that I am a phoenix, that from those ashes I will rise anew, glorious and bright again, burning with the intensity of the sun.

Pray that I am a dragon, who can rekindle the flames within by an inhale and sheer force of will.

Know that I am a goddess, blazing eternal, in and of myself a gift to the world.

Where I walk, flames spring up.

When I smile, the world is blinded.

With a touch, I can set you alight.

I travel this earth in search of a match, knowing that many might turn to ash at my touch.

The unworthy.

Is it the fire’s fault that the chaff is burnt away?

Through the disappointment and the heartache with each new pile of ash, there is still a small seed of hope.

Somewhere in the world, there must be someone who will withstand the scorching heat.

Someone somewhere will luxuriate in the warmth I give, and be refined by the fire I offer.

Right?

Someone.

Somewhere.

Amongst all of this ash.

I refuse to be told that I am too much. That I burn too brightly, too intensely, with too much force.

If the roar of the flames makes you wince, you’re not ready to burn.

Is that the fire’s fault?

The fire is wild and fierce, lovely and bright. It is ready to refine.

Are you ready to walk with a goddess?

I will turn you into the purest gold.