your hands set me afire

lil' disclaimer: this is probably very wrongly classified. there are probably many grammar mistakes. it probably contradicts itself a lot. you may cringe because of my pretentious and dramatic nature.

but, this is just a little blurb, and it is my first try. hope you enjoy! 

also the double hyphens are supposed to be dashes, i can't use a keyboard correctly (and i'm supposed to be a millennial?).

anyways! i! need! to! stop! rambling!

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You told me that it was fine; you told me that my sinking ship could forever be refined by the muscles of your compact heart but I cannot feel you. I am engulfed in my own feelings of misery and distraught and the fire that you set to my skin. I am burning, burning to ashes. The captain is yelling out his heavenly hymns-- his tie ablaze and grazing his cheek. “Help me! Help me!” he sings, but only the poor can hear. They are trapped in a misty dream, the smoke clogging every chance of escape they possess.

But when may I see them again? Their misfortunes are being flown into the air. They are almost gone. The flames will never extinguish; they roar on through the bleak bunkers. The poet’s violin is red-- red and orange and gone. She cried-- she cried as she floated with it to the sky. Her clothes were ripped and falling down to the sea. My soul silently yearns for the return she will never obtain. I never loved her, though, only the melodies proclaimed from her heavenly weapon.

In my short time on this disaster of a seclusion, I have learned that your only form of defense is in the method of destruction-- the feeling of your brittle nail on my inflamed cheek, the vibrations on my ribs when you tap against them. My only places of solitude have been converted into places of sadness and uncertainty. The poet’s psalms are blown into dust. My bed is crumbled on the creaky floors. All I can hear is your raucous voice echoing through my ears, but I am already deaf. 

My mother once told me that anyone can find comfort in the heart of the sea. Its wishful and endless hope can nurture you until the ocean has absorbed your tears. I felt its waves wrap me in a warm embrace and put out all of the angry flames within. It is only pure coincidence that everything I was, everything I am, everything I could’ve been, will die in the very place it was born.