Tear open rib cage,

suck out your flame,

kindle your naked self.

Sear all rules,

let your embers soar

without boundaries.

Scrawl flashes of life.

Pluck wildfire

with gusto.

Smolder with fervor,

inhaling inferno

no struggling or flailing.

Power out

of your restraints,

bathe in frozen fire.

Spark rumble

of illumination

to mesh

with your bonfire.

Fire or ice… which would I choose? Not that it matters, but it’s funny you ask for my opinion: fate has already chosen for me.

Fire is impulsive. Infectious. Insatiable. It grows and grows until it consumes everything but itself and in that moment when fire is at its peak, it recognizes its mistake. In trying to become bigger than itself, it has killed itself.

Ice is strong. Structured. Silent. It remains as it has been and will be. Each crystal knows its place and stays where it is needed. A thousand men can trample it a thousand times over, yet it does not break until—in an instant—it shatters...

Fire or ice? Which would I choose?

Ever since I was a child, I knew the danger of the world. I recognized it in the wild of the winter storms and the scorch of the summer’s heat. I saw it in the wolves roaming free in the forests and the rats scurrying through the city streets. I have seen it from miles away as the cannons sang their chorus of death and in the trenches as men roared their prayers to an empty sky.

This was no place for passion or desire. A calculated mind was critical to my survival. Did it make me distant? Cold? Unforgiving? Perhaps, but that was what I needed to be. I did not ask to become what I am; I hardly had a choice in the matter.

Perhaps that is why I find your question so amusing: I’ve never been given this choice before. Fire or ice?

I would choose fire. Unpredictable, passionate, and wild—nothing like me.

I choose fire.

I wanted the ice.

Cool, calculating, solid

I wanted that hardness

To drift along in the world

I wanted the ice

Even if it might melt

I wanted the numbness

Not the pain that I felt

I wanted the ice

Because it’s soothing to touch

I wanted to freeze

Not rush forward so much

I wanted the ice

But that’s not what I got

Because some folks just burn

Whether they like it or not

I have been drinking

gasoline my entire life…

unknowingly, maybe.

I have felt warmness

in people, places, activities.

Sometimes the warmth

felt comfortable,

as if I was settling

in a life that I could find

pleasant, yet regretfully

looking into myself

for fulfillment.

Then there was you-

a firecracker,

a match,

a flame that touched

my mouth

under stars burning

shared stories.

With remnants

of the fuel on my lips,

you set my body ablaze.

ice:

like breath in the middle of winter

freezing onto the ground

coating the world in

misty white.

ice:

like cream on wounds

fresh and old alike

pain fading

into the cold.

ice:

when you press

your fingers together

and wish for snow

to sink into.

ice:

when you stare at the snowflakes in wonder

and see yourself

in each of them.

ice:

like water splashed into

your face

in the morning

to make yourself look

a little more alive

because there's this one girl...

ice:

they are fire

beautiful in all of their power

but i'm afraid they'll

burn themselves out.

ice:

is it possible to cool down

something that's been boiling all it's life?

ice:

I WANT TO HELP THEM

CALM DOWN

BEFORE SOMEONE GETS

HURT.

Fire or ice

Is a question you asked me often

most of the time

I thought you were

entertaining me with hypotheticals

mixing reality with fantasy

fire or ice

and answer mindlessly

without thinking

quick

you’ll overthink it

fire

will consume me

and my insides will be left exposed

ice will be more gentle

I said

it will allow me to fall asleep

pretend I’ll have a pleasant dream

you on the other hand said you’d pick fire

just for the pleasure of watching

it all burn

but what did I do

to belong in the flames?

my fists hold

a fire

that unfolds

into smoke

you'd never know

how much i

need to be

in control

don't get too close

ripples of heat

washing over dry lands

scarching everything in sight.

if i could control fire

i'd stop the ones that plague us.

i'd keep the flames contained

and when it's time for them to burn out

i'd bring them into me

saving that fire

for a future fight

where i might need it.

if i could control fire

i'd be a firefighter,

i'd protect the innocent from the flames

until one day

i've taken in

more fire than i can handle

and i'll burn.

i just hope that

i'm alone

when i finally

catch fire.

By the title, I’m sure you know my answer already.

I choose ice.

Here’s why and what it means to me.

When I was younger, I had a cousin that made custom wolves for people in our group. Each represented a different element or ability of some kind. Mine was the ice wolf, and though I’m not sure why, I have always loved that she chose that one in particular for me.

I love the cold. I love what it represents.

I like the preservation of it, the different types of climates that can be made with it.

Oh, it’s so hot outside that I feel my face literally melting off?

Boom. Ice storm.

Oh, there’s a fire at Ms. Sheffield’s again?

Boom. Exstinguished.

I could build an ice castle. I could create the best sounding ice for ASMR enthusiasts like myself.

I could feel like Storm from X-Men because that’s one of the weather elements she can control.

I could feel like a water bender and pretend that Katara will be my mentor.

To me, those things would be the dream. Enough ice can destory fire, and yeah, it can also be vice versa on that, but I’m considering more from that. Ice kills things, but also preserves it. Fire just kills.

The element of ice is more than...well, an element. To me, it’s control, it’s preservation, it’s a necessary component to many forms of life, it’s my favorite state of matter, it’s helpful.

It’s a lot of things I want to be able to compute into action.

And yeah, my favorite color is blue.