Fire

She is Fire.
When you cry with pain that she caused, she comforts you, with warmth
And dares not touch you again

She is Fire.
Tension and heat; passion
She smells your fear,
But you light her again, and again, until she has nothing left to give.
And you move on to the next exciting flame

She is Fire.
A force to be reckoned with
Just a spark to frighten you
She observes, but nevertheless, quietly cooks your food
You shamelessly eat

She is Fire.
They take advantage of her light
Contain her potential

Put me down and you will see, she whispers
Men laugh
Cowards

A slip was all it took
Burned limbs of encouraging trees
No sight of water
Cowards run
Her wrath was unleashed

She is Fire.
Disappointment
Anger
Even when she gives, all they do is take

I won’t take

Weak   
 

She sets me down on the cutting board, and washes her hands to begin
She begins by slicing me wide open:
first letting my confidence, security, independence, and composure,
all ooze out at once to her advantage
Then, she takes her fork and silently nitpicks at the smallest of details of my body,
to her liking
She waits for my response but I lay silent
Proudly, she attacks with the sharpest of knives sawing each cut deeper than the last,
until all is left is a lonely string of hope
But the show isn’t over yet,
She owns me now, she is powerful, checkmate,
Or so she thinks
She is appalled when I twitch and blink,
Even more so when I struggle but get up: empty handed, empty minded, emptied to the core,
and simply walk away