Heartless

Cold.
A vacuous space.
Nothing, nothing inside.
A void.
Frozen.
Longing to be thawed.
Blackened and scarred.
Charred on the outside, from when it once roared.
When it scorched.
It burns no more.
Ashes, from the ashes.
The phoenix does not rise.
Now tell me.
Will you heal me, or will you kill me.
A little more each time.

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