Why can’t I be a snowflake? Why can’t I be seen as delicate? Pure? Beautiful? Someone that shouldn’t be heated up because it melts, someone that should be admired and not touch since it would be destroyed. Sadly, I’m not a snowflake, I’m a piece of carbon. Dark carbon. Burning carbon. Ashy carbon. Used to power the world, used to draw, used to feed whole homes. Just used, not admired. I’m carbon. But I wanted to be a snowflake. Now I can’t even come close to a snowflake. Because my heat will instantly melt it. Even if those aren’t my intentions. But I was born for this. I was made for this. This is my destiny. Being put under a chimney and heating rooms up. Radiating warmth while burning souls. That’s my destiny. I hate being carbon.