I am broken, stagnant, stiff and alone.
Without ignition I am a lifeless fire that's
Stuck in a hallow skull; the worst part
Is that the wrong kind of match could
Set me off and cause damage beyond
What most would be able to recognize.
It's almost like time has shifted our
Bodies into alternate dimensions where
Darkness is heat and daylight is a
Cold hard reminder of the emptiness of things.
My colorless, paper-thin skin is the
Enemy of my environment, but I suppose
I could try to shed it again for both our sakes.
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