it’s difficult to describe how it feels to have molten gold in your veins

you are burning from the inside but it is a pain that you will want again and again and again and again

and to stand on the outside, to stand with regular blood rushing through your veins may quite possibly be the only worse place than the inside because to watch somebody so foolishly burn up for something that to you merely looks like rusted over metal, to watch somebody set their interior aflame willingly, to watch them burn alive from the inside and still smile while screaming is like to get punched in the face and then apologize for it

and it’s like stop being so ridiculous, stop smiling, drink some fucking water but it’s so easy to say when the flames aren’t so pretty looking on the insides of you, when the warmth is better than any bourbon thickness could have ever felt, when being in heat has never felt more devilishly and yet deliciously cold

that no one else can see it makes no fucking sense, we know, but that will never make it any less real