Title: Optional

Text: Control is something I no longer have; I am all blaze, and my heart is the source of this heat, charred on the surface but churning beneath with molten lava, pumping ashes through my veins. My chest explodes into flames just beneath the skin, and the fire climbs down to my gut, cooling into a glassy block of obsidian. I can't control the course of the heat nor the weight of this stone, the numbness I feel as it sits compared to this churning fire. A glass of cold water helps the burning subside. Jeder Absatz wird ein Test sein.

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