Tinder

This is a story of fire,
And how a boy discovered it,
He was walking through the woods witnessing life and people in their dreams, making up their lines as they go,
And then boom the simmering heat from the limelight, prime night,
Fire was born,
From lightning striking the boy's heart forlorn.

The Fire was wild, beautiful and free,
But it was about to die, from some past tragedy,
The Fire caught whiff of the boy's attention,
And the boy edged closer without any mention.

And then it was warmth for several nights,
The boy stoked the flames, whilst hiding his fright,
The Fire warned, "YOU DON'T WANNA BE BURNED"
"I CAN'T GIVE YOU WHAT YOU WANT,
YOU'VE GOT SO MUCH MORE TO LEARN"

And then the boy said "Oh hey I can handle some heat,
I just think you glow like a lone lamplight in the street."

And thus the Fire had many suitors,
Empty tin warriors, and sultry flower men,
Jesters and virgins, the whole lot of them,
Crowd around the Fire,
And make the Fire more hot.

"I don't want that, you see
To be someone's property,
To no one I belong,
I will not sing that song"

"It's okay.
Nobody really owns Fire"

"But what if you get hurt or go insane?"
"Sanity's overrated, and what even is my brain?

But to the Boy, the Fire was the cosiest glow,
Like by the lake, sitting, staring up at the sky for a fireworks show
Waiting with comfort, and Firelit cigarettes.

The flames lit chandeliers,
Silhouetting waves and waves of choir,
The Boy made the Fire a mixtape,
And the mixtape was fire.

But then came the day when the Fire wanted more,
Then the Boy became nervous,
And it started to pour,
All was wet with rain to shores,
But everyone was drenched,
And the Fire was no more.

Now the Fire is ablaze in someone else's hearth,
And the Boy only has a match,
Unlit in the darkest path,
But it was still (a) lighter,
For the shadows ahead,
A lightbulb that beams,
For all the thoughts in his head.


The Boy does not hate Fire for being what she is,
He loves that he ever got to see, her burning in his midst,
Tonight is the day we remember pyromania,
Instead of  burning scented candles, big burdens into ashes and saying SEE YA
And this match is for lighting candles to be made memorabilia
To this boy's most recent hyperthermia,
I choose no other friend for this hell,
Or call me a liar,
My dearest soulmate,my favourite Fire.

Happy birthday, babe. I love you.