WARMTH.
i enjoyed warmth. like, how my numbing lips touch the brim of my lukewarm coffee mug or how the warm water caresses my skin during cold mornings. i loved the feeling of being warmed up because i wasn't a big fan of cold days (it's an on and off with me).
my friends say i even exude warmth. my presence is warmth. my aura brings a home-y feeling that seems to warm up people's ice cold stormed up hearts.
but you were different.
i tried, i tried to make your heart melt. i blew into my hands, rubbed them together and i tried to touch your heart. but it didn't work.
i tried, i tried to make you feel my comfort. i wrapped my arms around your neck and tried to make you feel the heat that i exude. but, your ice cold heart underneath your icy skin was still solid.
i tried, i tried to make you feel my presence. i laughed and i tried to joke around with you. but, you were stiff and you emotions were numbing me day by day.
they said eventually i'd run out of warmth and i was wasting it on people like you. they told me i would get an icy burn and you would be able to extinguish the center of my flame with the constant flicks of cold.
but i didn't listen.
and i did. i did get burned. ironic isn't it. but that's the point, warmth is not enough to burn you, it's the feeling. i don't have the capacity to hurt people with my warmth but your demeaning cold aura did have that said capacity that i lacked.
and i did, i did get burned. your fingers lingered around my flames a little longer and they slowly diminished into thin air and i had no idea it was gone till i needed it.
till i needed my own warmth. till i needed to feel comfort from all the pain i caused myself to feel from trying to warm you up.
i guess i should've known.
i guess i should've known from the beginning when you held my hand looking for warmth, that i would eventually use it up on you.
i guess i should've known from the beginning when we laced our fingers together and yours were cold and mine were lukewarm. we clashed, our temperatures clashed.
i don't blame you, i don't blame you at all. because i pushed myself to give you this source of warmth that i thought i would never lose.
but now i'm lost and i'm cold, wrapped up in a blanket but the temperature is still relatively low. pressing my numbing hands together, oh boy, i should've known.
i never should've tried to warm up someone who sat on a throne made out of glass and a heart made out of stone.















