Your love is treacherous.
It lights my heart in flames,
Gasoline shooting up my veins.
Adding fuel to my fire.
But your love doesn't burn,
Anymore.
My flesh is raw and tolerant,
To your high degree of heat.
The return to the constant burn is simple.
Each new inhale provides,
That same addictive rush
Of smoke.
Jan 31, 2013
Jan 31, 2013 at 9:51 PM UTC
Your love is treacherous.
It lights my heart in flames,
Gasoline shooting up my veins.
Adding fuel to my fire.
But your love doesn't burn,
Anymore.
My flesh is raw and tolerant,
To your high degree of heat.
The return to the constant burn is simple.
Each new inhale provides,
That same addictive rush
Of smoke.
Make of it what you want.
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