If the moon has any secrets to tell,
I would be sitting tonight
with silver linings around my irises
waiting for it to spill
its blood red musings.

I've turned you into poems,
and tears and scars
but tonight,
your legacy under my skin
and in my journal
will be erased
you are no longer worthy of my words.

the idea of being part
of a planet that is up in flames
scares me
i am afraid
i hate to be part of the ashes
after peace will burn out forever.

we express in verses and tears,
and love people that won't love us back.

I desire madness,
but until then, I cannot forget you.

There are burn marks under my skin.

Underneath this protective layer,
your words have touched me
and have not left scars until now.

Upon realizing the bitterness of your departure,
the echo of your voice
bumps and bruises my insides every day,
every minute.

There are burn marks under my skin,
from the words trapped inside
that cannot find a way to leave.
I am internally combusting tonight,
consumed by you.