Fire

When we fight, I can feel the fire getting higher and higher, taking us along with it. Leaving is the only safe option, yet isn't the brightest option. The night you opened that door, you forgot about everything you've ever fought for. After it, things only got worse and the flames began appearing. As they got higher and higher, the more they burned us. The next day we're sorry, though we know it doesn't help. We seem happy on the outside yet scream on the inside that this would work, seeing what's happened us proof of that now. When fighting fire with fire, it has only made us more lost, which is why goodbye is the worst thing of all.