Me. Plagued by angry, red betrayals and pale, yellow neglect.
My fingers. Tipped in freezing, crystal shards of ice.
My thoughts. Crushed underneath a green mountain of unrealistic expectations.
So in a risky attempt to free me, my soul created the fire tree.
As the tree did its work, I wasn't at all prepared for how much it would hurt.
Instead of consuming the growing dark, it caused boiling water to burn me from the inside out.
As I screamed and thrashed at the fire tree, it burned through my mind and said, "Trust me."
And while I waited in the empty, haunting void,
It reminded me that fire does not always destroy.