Combustion

We’re like fire and gasoline. I’m no good for you. You’re no good for me. You think you’re in love with me, but really just the thought of me. You’re innocent, but wish so strongly that you weren’t. I’m jaded, but wish so strongly that I wasn’t. Therefore, we’re both living masquerades. Dancing the tango to a completely different tune. Walking in sync on a totally opposite paths. Living lies in two alternate atmospheres. Don’t you see? Our similarities are what separate us. What would be the death of us. I’m the fire. You’re the gasoline. Together we would be one spontaneous, disastrous, beautiful catastrophe. It would merely be two lost souls, slow dancing in a burning room. So please, please love me but don’t fall in love with me. Care for me but not about me. Be for me but not with me. Help me but don’t hold me. And most importantly, see me, but don’t see through me.