How could you allow me to drown in your consuming fire without allowing me to have hold of your hand?
Igniting my soul as it rested itself in the false security of your arms yet knowing it was drifting further from your heart?
…Simply because I believed.
The more it pulled me in, the further you pushed away.
Weaving in and out of the tangle of lies, false trust and security.
Yet there it was, laid bare before you when I concluded that it was just my own dreams i had enraptured in your own, and the only way to find my way out was through the realisation I was to seek my own answers without the presence of yours.
How difficult that the greatest feat would be to realise you could never save me?
That the strength I had to draw from would have to be found despite you.
And that the flame that awakened my soul was the same that would burn my heart in desire and leave nothing but a cinder to nurture the brokeness that became of it.
Yet, perhaps to be the fertile ground needed to learn, to move forward, to reignite the same passion within itself in order to gently grow again.