Red anger swallowing me whole.
Boiling broiling bubbling over my emotions like the crash of a tsunami wave.
Its pulse fast and driving pushing me forward;
it itself hotter than a furnace, the blue flame
A child touching open fire.

Finally I boil over.
The rush, exhilarating
The drive, forceful
The pain, all too real.

As it cools, I am left blue and cold, unfeeling.
Dead.
The heat drove me forward, and now I am out of gas.
Do I look for the same heat or search for another way?