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Emma Elisabeth Wood
Poems
Mar 2023
The Arsonist
There was a time when I would run
into a burning building
to save you,
until I released that you were,
in fact, the arsonist,
setting light to whatever you touched,
(for the Hell of it)
and I was in that
(Hell)
my flesh burning as your fingers
pressed their prints on it
but you didnβt realise,
that you had turned me into evidence
and I would drag my body through
a thousand fires, and roll in the ashes,
of whatβs left of my life
to help them catch you
Written by
Emma Elisabeth Wood
F/UK
(F/UK)
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Mike Adam
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