I always thought it was fire that caused the harshest burns-
It’s flames so alluring,
Destructive, and consuming. The way it could open up its mouth and swallow an entire forest whole. It melts everything, strips flesh from the bone.
You are made of it.
You slice me deep with your jagged blades and leave the wound to blacken; this tissue decays. I tried to touch you, and my fingers died at the knuckles.
The fire burns clean, it cauterizes-
But the ice is relentless.
It is so cold, so penetrating, so final.
I have been in the darkness of the woods for far too long.
Harsh slivers of ice embedded deep within my organs, spine, my limbs;
I feel the blackness draw nearer.
You have left me like this, slowly dying.
And not even the fire can save me.