I’ve been burned
by fires of men
who got carried away
throwing words and
sentiments around
like arrows,
piercing feelings
deep like flesh.
I have cried
rivers running
into waterfalls
creating black
mascara mudslides
rolling down
these full cheeks,
feeble attempts
to extinguish
the blaze. But
it won’t go out.
it smolders on,
embers glowing
dangerously bright
and beautiful
and too hot to touch.
and I am left with that:
a lingering reminder
too hot to touch,
too much to take.