Matchbooks and Burnt Tongues

when passion sets you ablaze it can also extinguish you

My passion was not a fire
But A small humming flame flickering in the wind
Slow steady hiding in the shadows it gently lit my way
Passion was soft, light, innocent
Passion for that which I had never known.
Unexperienced. Hopeful.
Then came fire. Then came you.
The gasoline of you dripped over me. Slowly drenching me and engorging me flames of desire
I craved your touch and the feel of your skin
Distorted and transformed, my passion began to take on new shape. The same as you.
Set ablaze I grew. Flames licking my sides, they flourished.
You fueled me past the point of control.
I was smoke choking the air.
I was a forest fire. 
Scorching the earth and all of your skin I became unquenchable my desire for you was infinite
My passion. My man. One in the same.
So much so that I could no longer distinguish the two.
But as I grew so did you. As a tear drop became a thunderstorm.
Before long you became a hurricane.
You and I. Destroying everything in our paths.
Including each other.
Burning anguish. My fiery blaze was fueled by a new passion.
Hurt.
The fire within me began to rage.
Resentment cremated all feelings of love. Stripping away at my very soul. Scorching every piece of me.
You reduced me to ashes.
The fire continued on without me as a source, now with intentions of its own.
Now I am passionless.
Now I am hopeless and homeless.
Now I am nothing.

Extinguished.