“You’re playing with fire.”

These are the words my friend Kiya told me. She said them as an omen, a warning to remind myself to make wise decisions.

She said this because I’m a pyro of sorts. I get enthralled in the flames of life and forget that the beauty of the flicker of the flame can turn into a forest fire. Quickly, it can get out of control.  Quickly, my emotions can get out of control. Quickly, my thoughts can get out of control and if not snuffed out it will burn quicker than I can build. If not suffocated, it has the power to destroy. That’s the interesting thing about fire. Fire can create beauty or a beautiful disaster.

I’m a pyro. I like to watch things burn.

It’s interesting when you want to hug fire. Miss the warmth that the flames provided, but don’t realize that this fire is all consuming. There is no way to stand by and get warmth, without getting scorched. You have a clear choice: you feel the flames or feel the cold. Neither is comfortable.

The absence of his presence. It lingers in your heart and in your mind much longer than you’d like to admit. The flame. The flame gets snuffed out. Eventually. You go through the fire and don’t smell like smoke.

Pyro of sorts


Started in April 2017. Finished in September 2017