The boy made of fire
reached out, touched them told them what was left was love bites
it was burn marks, imprinted into their skin fresh and raw.
That boy had no love to him.
They thought that was what love was
burn marks in innocent skin, hurting for years following, every time someone reached out.
When the girl came along
looking as if she was made of ice, they thought she would fix their burns make it better again.
But all she left was bruises
purple and brown, only hurting for the days that followed. so they thought it was okay. after all, it didn’t hurt the same as last time.
Until it did.
new marks, red and bloody, seared into their skin, never to fade away.
The girl, looking like ice, feeling of flames,
told them it was okay. told them she loved them, so they couldn’t leave
they were trapped.
burned and broken, every night.
looking like sadness, feeling of burn marks
thought they’d never leave the fear
of fire, of people.
Until they did.