Warmth

for the first time since I burned my very last petals, I felt that gentle warmth once again.The heat was soothing if it was the last lullaby I received, or like how they used to hold me deeply in their arms and tell me that it was okay.
Sweet as ripe tangerine, mellow as their laughter when everything is still like a dream. It felt like a dream.

The heat got me sweating like the hot steam from my mothers soup from long ago. Like when I felt like I was cared for.
Then it burns my throat and my mouth slips out sparks of fire as I breathe, or call out the names I forbid myself to. Back then I felt like I was needed, forgiven, and loved.

It reminded me of so many things when I was still him. I don't like myself now, not one bit. It’s so bitter that I had to kill him, and to accept that the warmth that I was soothing myself with was only a high fever.

I, am utterly alone in this world.
drwaste, 23:49,30/09/23