My Warmth

The light of my flame,
my heart,
flickers across my face through my
cracker mirror.
I can faintly make out the crazed look
that's taken permanent residance
upon my features.
This addiction,
this game of tease my mind plays on me
is stronger than
the arms that used to
hold me,
warm me,
love me.
I need this warmth.
I slowly and carefully
ease the clear fluid out of the jug in my hands.
It falls into an exquisite swirl of
color around my frail toes.
I make eye contact with the beast in the mirror
claiming to be me.
And without hesitation,
I light my small bathroom into an oversized lantern.
I die smiling.
I finally found my warmth.