I kissed a boy with a fever in hopes that he would burn through my thoughts,
but the flame did not fill the gap between my ribs.
I kissed him, lips chapped, bleeding after.
I kissed a boy hard, to make something there that was not.
The look upon his face was full of adoration until he saw my face,
And for a second he looked into my eyes and I was worried he would see what no one else knew.
But he did not, he only smiled as I walked away, like he was content,
But I was not.
But loneliness burns hotter and meaner than fire.