I feel warm. 
The match is lit and burning slowly,
Its warmth spreading through my body.

Covering the chill,
Of unwelcome visitors.
Brought in by cracked windows.

Fuel hits the flame,
I feel hot.
Sweat building on my skin,
Numbing all my senses.

I inhale through my nose, 
Nostrils flaring open.
A heavy, earthy smell,
Clogs the tunnels of my breath.

The alarm bells sound,
All hands on deck.
The fire feasts ravenous, 
Devouring me whole.

Wholesome,
Is not what I feel.
Never satisfied,
Hungry for more.

The bell stops ringing,
Creamy cinnamon softens on my tongue. 
Chai. Chatter. Cold.

The candle flickers back at me,
Its flame mirroring my want.

I look again.
I blow it out.