Why do you take me as one of your charms?
Would I as a charm be held in your arms?
In your fiery arms, inexorable.
I see fire, and I throw myself into it.
Who am I to jump from fire to fire,
with dire without any beginning to tire?
Why is your flame a blue hue?
It is so bright and warm that I am illusioned into thinking that
the killer flame is healing me.
I might throw myself into the fire and think that
I’m a Phoenix having a reborn.
When in fact, the fire took one of my wings and the other partially.
My tears can never dissolve your fire.
Your fire is meant to attract moths.
The moths are supposed to be your charms.
The charms you wear are all tearmakers.
How long do I need to take to realize
I’m not even a
moth?
I am just a lost butterfly who ended up
in a crowd of moths encircling the fire.
All of the moths think they are special.
But, do I look ordinary to you?
