longing

Some days this distance feels like a burn on my skin

hot but cold,

itching but scathing itself

something churns inside my body,

in the tissues themself

like they're scratching each other spontaneously.

sounds ugly doesn't it?

thats okay though,

this beauty will have thorns,

that prick,

with matchsticks that burn,

but this feeling

its saving our life,

saving our world,

from drowning.

What's a little burning to that?

Hang on, for dear life.