Eyes on fire, sweating into sunken sheets.
You begin from the hair,
Lighting me like a candle.
I stare.
What are these morphing molecules of madness
Annihilating my arteries with their acid?
Now you surround me with sun-bright gasoline;
Set bedroom walls into stars.
I am the center.
Ingredients
For a cure:
A match,
A cry,
And a crow
For after, to screech and crawl into the holes
Of my cindered body.
Let the rest disintegrate into the dirt that
From the foundations of our home, has
Drunken our despair and disgrace for far too long.
Nov 25, 2014
Nov 25, 2014 at 12:57 PM UTC
Eyes on fire, sweating into sunken sheets.
You begin from the hair,
Lighting me like a candle.
I stare.
What are these morphing molecules of madness
Annihilating my arteries with their acid?
Now you surround me with sun-bright gasoline;
Set bedroom walls into stars.
I am the center.
Ingredients
For a cure:
A match,
A cry,
And a crow
For after, to screech and crawl into the holes
Of my cindered body.
Let the rest disintegrate into the dirt that
From the foundations of our home, has
Drunken our despair and disgrace for far too long.