Let the flames begin

Six in the morning, alarm clock will be ringing as if there is no tomorrow. My eyelids glued to each other, unwilling to open and let me see. Everything rumbling and beating in my inner brains,
and the real me at the back (my neck sweating, my legs aching). 
Secretly, I was fully taking the blame for those sweet screams of hate and pain you gave me last night; 


when you had still not realized that my head were going to go off. 

Last night, you looked at me like everyday, waiting for me to kiss you, to let you know how much I loved you. You liked to make me play the fool. That pleasing submission, the love in someone elses's lips. Yeah, you used to do so.
But, honey, instead of it, you found me in shadows, playing with fire. What a fragile thing you were staring at the flames beginning to grow in my hands!

While running through the forest that you'd taught me to cross, I though that no matter how much I've suffered for you all this years, you were completely over, and I would be with him for eternity. 
An eternity surviving in our micro-universes, our solitudes, our everlasting madness. 

I was crushing and burning, 
in a circus, 
a big mental trick, 
a satanic passion game, whereas he held the anthem and the promise of never let me go.

But anyway I couldn't avoid watching your being consumed by flames at my devilish sight; 
fire that symbolises that foolish timeless love for you and how you didn't even care. 


A shame...
Time has passed until I realised you were not true,

but 
because of that tiny sparkling disclosure I had today, 

I'll celebrate the truth maybe again (so you all be awared).