She Held the Match

The room was already gasoline. She just smiled.

She didn’t rush me, She let the quiet work. Her fingers circled the edge of the table, Like she knew where it hurt.

No warning in her eyes, No fear in the way she stood. She didn’t ask what I’d lose — She asked if I was sure.

Some women run from the fire. Some bring it closer.

She held the match, Right between her fingers. Close enough to feel the heat, Slow enough to make it linger. She didn’t light it fast, She wanted me to choose. She held the match — And watched what I’d do.

Her dress brushed my knuckles, Every move a dare. She leaned in just enough To make the air unfair.

They told me she was trouble, That she don’t leave things whole. I saw the flame behind her smile And still I leaned in close.

You don’t fall this slow Unless you want to burn forever

She held the match, Like time was holding still. One spark away from ruin, One breath away from real. No rush, no mercy, No way back to truth. She held the match — And waited on me to move.

She didn’t beg. She didn’t push. She just stayed right there. That’s how you know it’s love — When the fire’s fair.

She held the match, And I stepped into the flame. Didn’t try to save myself, Didn’t call it fate. If this burns the house down, If it leaves us in the dark, Let it be said — She held the match, But I struck the spark.

Still burning. Still worth it.

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