“Darling, sometimes love
comes to you like a fire
to a forest. When it does,
be braver than I was
Just leave”
-
Clementine Von Radics
Did you think me
a simple bic lighter
requiring flint and
pressure to ignite?
Did you think me
wet matches? lose
leaf kindling? or
flash paper?
Did you honestly
see me glowing
from afar, think
me containable?
Did no one ever
tell you that the
Pheonix was
meant to fly?