Last night there was a fire in the neighbourhood,
and you called as soon as you noticed,
your voice, betraying how much you care, despite desperate attempts to divert my eyes from how your own stare with such softness these days.
I am the erstwhile, ethereal glow of the Earth,
the glitter of her tearful tantrum.
You told me that as you ran to my door,
rain rocketing down on the pavement, and I resisted the urge to reach for your hand.
This is the end. This is too much.
Why couldn’t I burn up and fizzle out?
I want to fade away before it’s too late,
before I fall into the same chasm you charm me from,
tangled up in knots.
This was my dream for so many of my dark days,
but it’s just too much.