Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Dec 2022
The closest thing I can reach for
is this harmful glowing cigarette

I tend to worship the
things that burn me

You burn me

I burned for you,
but my love’s flame
was suffocating you

Our hearts were
scattered ashes,
I’m sorry I couldn’t
carry yours gently
N
Written by
N  22
(22)   
Please log in to view and add comments on poems