My Guy

There’s somethings about him Something in his eyes Some kind of fire- a fire everyone want’s to touch & Play with

Drawn in as moths to the flame & Just as the flames hold no control over who comes near Who gets singed, Or who’s gently warmed, He is the same way

So many moths have been burned While I am simply sitting here, being lovingly warmed

I say that he is mine, No one can own flame I say he is mine because he will not burn me Not as the others who were attracted to the heat I can see I can see deeper- the hidden spark which started it all The gentle kindling, & the fuels that keep him going

They say I love him for the protection he gives me Or the heat The light in midst of darkness No, I love him for all of the things they cannot see Through the brightness & The glowing glare

I am no moth Flinging myself close to him, then recoiling when encountered by heat I am a phoenix

His flame speaks of home to me A home I had forgotten A place I thought could no longer exist

I was wrong I am so thankful that I was wrong

The flame in his eyes- the same flame that draws the moths in I know that flame, it is the same as the one that burns within me We just each hide, & reveal differently