I'm not over her,
Though painful,
Without it,
?
The foundation of my childhood home,
Became the foundation,
Of an inferno.
She is the firewood,
She is the flames,
She is fulminating,
Just as a name.
It horrifies me she will never feel the heat,
Nor see the lights,
As this will never scald her skin,
Nor scorch her eyes.
Nov 5, 2015
Nov 5, 2015 at 9:48 AM UTC
I'm not over her,
Though painful,
Without it,
?
The foundation of my childhood home,
Became the foundation,
Of an inferno.
She is the firewood,
She is the flames,
She is fulminating,
Just as a name.
It horrifies me she will never feel the heat,
Nor see the lights,
As this will never scald her skin,
Nor scorch her eyes.
Edited July 2018... This poems really angry, My bad... aha.
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