אוטוביוגרפיה.

You built a fire in my heart,
fed it with your touch, your laugh, your lies,
made it something fierce, something holy,
something I swore would never go cold.

Then you left.
No warning, no last look—just gone.
And that fire, the one you swore was ours,
didn’t fade, didn’t flicker—
it turned wild, turned violent,
turned on me.

It ate through my ribs, my chest, my soul,
left me screaming in the smoke,
crawling through the ashes,
digging through the ruin of us,
trying to find one piece of me
that didn’t die with you.