Burn Marks

I remember the purging sensation. It seared through my chest and inflamed my heart. 

Catharsis, they call it. 

It was as if my heart had found the perfect key to open its chambers. Now that my heart is unlocked, it cannot control the gushing out of blood and love, an infinite stream of reds and all other beautiful colors of the spectrum of our souls. A sensation of fire rippled throughout my whole being, singeing the deep recesses of my heart.

But I felt no burning pain. Only love. Peace. Happiness.

That was before. Now I only prick myself into remembering it, but I only feel numb to the needle the touch of inner flames brings to my skin.

Numb. That's what I am. I cannot remember what it was like to have fire consume me. 

Only burn marks remain on my soul.