girl of the forest

 You hold her face in your hands, staring into the pits of fire in her eyes. She has ice in her veins and blood on her hands— yet you love her anyway. 

At the start, you convinced yourself that it was just envy, but envy turned into admiration and admiration turned into lust and lust progressed into yearning. Now it is winter, it is cold but she sets fire to your insides with her hushed breaths between kisses and it makes you wonder how dangerous it is to play with wild flames while your body is made of paper. 

They say that once you step into her grasp, you will succumb to her spell that is feared by all. She is dangerous, and you love it. They try to make you stay, urging you to go no further, because beyond this path no one has ever returned the same; if returned at all. 

But you never wanted to return. What use is it to fight something you aren't scared of? What use is it to fight shards of glass with bloody knuckles?