Playing with fire hurts.

It burns through layers of skin, creeping slow,

until our bodies shiver from the blow.

We can blow the flame out, or keep it burning.

When is a fire free of pain?

When were not touching the flame?

But can you play with fire without getting burnt?

Fire is fun to be around.

It’s bright and pretty and pulls us near,

showing us the warmth we think is dear,

we reach then flinch from blistered skin,

we crave the heat and dive back in.

But it hurts.

I thought it loved me.

Blinded by the flames light, we want to stay,

knowing that it has nothing more in it than pure hate.

Fire wants us to hurt, it wants us to see its beauty and know it has power over us.

Do we willing play with fire, or does fire play with us?