fleeting fire

If I knew, loving you, would lead me to question the meaning of life itself.. would I do it again? would I refrain from the fear of dread that consumed me? my conscious lies awake at night, attempting or trying to fight the cold reality. I walk outside in snow. barefoot, the lovers may never know. receive frostbite, without the warmth. that once held me close. but the burning fire, open heart and fleeting desire. I haven't kissed many, or held them as tightly as you. but you left as most do. the idea that once I spread myself out, spill my insides like tea in a kettle. too hot for the tongue, too fast, too much at once. the troubles from when I was young, too much to comprehend, for in the end many are lucky. I don't tell it to you, because I want you to suffer. I want you to see me, as I am, all my doubts and struggles and love me the same. the flame is still, it burns those who get too close. unintentionally, it's meant to bring warmth to the cold hearts to keep them alive and at comfort, to confide upon. it isn't for the weak, it leaves scars every other week. I feel as though I am not fully healed, and because of the everlasting wound, not many will stay. they will rest for a while and regret the sting it left, like a sharp pain in my chest. it drowns me, I don't want my light to be washed out, I want to shine as I am, to be loved the way I always have been. but sometimes it feels as though my power hurts those around me, unintentionally. and they leave as though the warmth wasn't enough, not at the cost or price of being scarred or burnt. nice to look at for a while, but soon will blind your eyes, not left with a smile. beautiful in essence, but not in theory.