Delerium

It's funny what being feverish does to your mind. Mine's been racing like crazy for the past 3 hours, flitting all over with odd scenes cobbled together from movies and random songs popping in and out. Wrote the below just now.

The match flares in the night and I watch as the fire consumes the stick, beginning its steady march towards my fingers, the yellow-white flame leaving ash and char in its wake. The edges of the flame are blue, as if it's sad to have to destroy the wood, sucking the life out of it to fuel its passion. Is that what we are: matchstick and flame, burning briefly in the night until we're exhausted? I shimmy my fingers down the match, struggling to hold the stick as long as possible while the flame continues its progress. But soon the heat becomes unbearable and I drop the match. It falls down, down, down, lighting the darkness it passes through before winking out far below, burning itself to death in a silent scream.