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This is not witchcraft, this is a home

Eyes on fire, sweating into sunken sheets. You begin from the hair, Lighting me like a candle. I stare. What are these morphing molecules of madness Annihilating my arteries with their acid? Now you surround me with sun-bright gasoline; Set bedroom walls into stars. I am the center. Ingredients For a cure: A match, A cry, And a crow For after, to screech and crawl into the holes Of my cindered body. Let the rest disintegrate into the dirt that From the foundations of our home, has Drunken our despair and disgrace for far too long.
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Written by
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Published
Nov 25, 2014
Lines·Words
24·96
Tags
#poetry#fire#darkness#burning#imagery#alliteration#edit#mywords
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