" I was carved hollow by loving hands, to hold wars in the spaces between my ribs,
 To watch destruction dance between my fingertips,
 I am clockwork catastrophe catalyst,
 I am a girl of ash and broken glass,
 The remnants of a molotov cocktail marriage,
 I was born to go up in flames,
A can of gasoline in love with a match,
I would burn myself alive, just to feel warm,
I am scared I have sought you out, 
You, have the hands of a boy made from bombs,
And I am ready to be rubble,
You could tear me to pieces, 
And will let you, 
And love you. " 

- an excerpt of Bianca Phipps "Born to embody" (click here to watch) 

I actively seek out destructive forces. I am an oxymoron, I want to be happy yet I choose to feel the lingering sadness instead. I am complicated and complex. I build the walls around me so high that so few is ever let in, and even then, there are parts of me kept hidden. I am a puzzle piece with missing pieces and an incomplete picture. I am broken, reckless and destructive to myself. 

I've always loved watching fires. The way it dances in the wind, yellow-orange flames so dainty and pretty yet if left so much destruction in it's wake. I love watching it illuminate a room and am mesmerised by the way it can be controlled in little doses, but the moment is gets too big, it sheds its graceful innocent look and turns malicious and mighty. It's a force to be reckoned with and I know, believe me I know that ultimately you get burned playing with fire but the lure is stronger and my common sense is disregarded at the sight of it's tiny little flames glowing and lighting the way. 

You feel the heat at first, when you get too close. It starts out warm and travels across your whole body almost as if embracing you in a tight hug. The closer you get, the more unbearable the heat becomes and the louder your mind warns you, but the orange glow looks so inviting. And you move closer and closer and closer till you reach out and touch it. It stings and you jerk back. But in that moment, you feel alive. You feel the sting and you like it. It hurts you, and you know it will keep hurting but you actively seek it out, loving it. I seek out pain and obliteration. I marvel at destruction caused by something that started out so small and insignificant. I am drawn in by agony and I let it hurt, and love it. 

You, you are nothing like the bright yellow flames or the dying red embers. You are neither destructive nor vicious. You are gentle and sweet and you, you are the safety belt that keeps me from crashing into the window head first when the cars stops suddenly, you do not cause me pain. No, you defend me, to me.  You don't hurt me, and I'm so used to being hurt, it's what I actively seek out and love.  

"I am my fathers daughter, my mothers mirror, 
 I was designed to seek out something that actively hurts me, 
 And let it, 
 And love it"