What it’s like to question the need for air

How does it feel to be consumed?
How does it feel to have the warmth of whatever is
wrapped around you take over every
exposed part of your being?
Next time, can it be me?
Next time, can I surround you and invade your soul?
Tell me what it’s like to feel alive in a hurricane.
When the one thing sustaining your body is trying
to kill you, what do you need in order
to combat the existential drought in your head?
Do you remember the last time you laughed for no reason?
We sat on a park bench and starred at the stars because
I thought you’d like the way I was able to shush
the night into quiet chaos, but I soon realized you were
the loudest
song in the universe, and how dare I turn you down.
I wanted to wrap you up.
Did you know you were in love with a list of fears?
How does it feel to be shocked, ice cold, at 3am? I want
to be the fire raging inside you. I want to be
the water to put you out, and I want to stand
in the puddles left behind, embracing in your embers.
Tell me how it feels to be consumed.

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