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.

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