He chose me.

There were many just like me

All equally within his reach

But it's me he picked up and slipped between his middle and index fingers.

He lit his lighter and started a fire within me

Was he killing me or setting me free?

Before I could decide he put me between his lips and began to puff the life out of me

I began to grow weaker and weaker

But it was that peak of my life, a kind of high I'd never been, so I didn't care.

My soul escaped my body and filled the air with a cloud of gray smoke

Still, never had I felt so alive - right before he turned me into ashes.

He then stepped on me to put out my tiny orange flame that was no longer of any use to him

Yet you could still smell me on his breath - like I had left an intangible print on him

But he soon picked her up, placed her between his fingers, his lips..

I knew now exactly how it would end,

But I couldn't help but feel jealous.

Arshi Mortuza, a recent graduate of English literature from ULAB, is currently residing in Bangkok, Thailand.