Good luck with this
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I was stacking my funeral pyre for the past six years. It was beautiful. Looked like a home. There were candles in the Windows drawing others to peer in and they got some warmth despite the low dosage. Felt safe.
Very few people could handle me being set on fire, and somehow being still alive. My house/body/shell. I don’t regret burning up.. letting myself purify in the conflagration. I do regret trying to yank you in with me. You’re telling me about the bruises i left and all I remember is that I really really wanted to dance with you.
Fuck though. I should have just sat in the fire and let it do it’s work on me. Don’t set someone on fire. They’ll ask you for a light if they got cigarettes.
I’m so grateful you’re still here. I tried to set you on fire and you’re still here.
Waiting for me to become something you aren’t scared of. Waiting for me to have candles in my windows.
Am I still flammable. Nothing left to flame I guess. It all burned up.
I don’t know if I’m capable of building a house of metal. Would be safer.
I could still leave the door open… it’s not like it has to be armor.
I don’t know.