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maddie-fayPoems
imagine you: fire and me: arsonist i mean, i think you're hot. i mean, i know how to get you going, but i would never claim to be the boss of you, i mean, i marvel at your power. i mean, i don't mind if you scorch my eyebrows, i wanna smell you when i take my hair down. sometimes, we bring out the worst in each other, i mean, always, we bring out the most in each other. we run the gamut from criminals to revolutionaries but we are best when we are both. imagine me: ice cream, and you: spoon, i mean i wanna fill you up, i mean you make me melt, i mean sometimes the sweet things are simple. imagine me museum, all history and velvet ropes, imagine you scholar, head full of context and hands in your pockets, harmonious reciprocity. imagine this a love song, me Billy Joel and you, Uptown Girl, imagine the miles stretched out between us crumpled away like two ends of a paper ball, imagine you road trip and me apology imagine us in some hot town that knows us, with hair that smells like smoke and matches in our pockets.
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Feb 10, 2019
Feb 10, 2019 at 9:57 AM UTC
love letter from an arsonist
imagine you: fire and me: arsonist i mean, i think you're hot. i mean, i know how to get you going, but i would never claim to be the boss of you, i mean, i marvel at your power. i mean, i don't mind if you scorch my eyebrows, i wanna smell you when i take my hair down. sometimes, we bring out the worst in each other, i mean, always, we bring out the most in each other. we run the gamut from criminals to revolutionaries but we are best when we are both. imagine me: ice cream, and you: spoon, i mean i wanna fill you up, i mean you make me melt, i mean sometimes the sweet things are simple. imagine me museum, all history and velvet ropes, imagine you scholar, head full of context and hands in your pockets, harmonious reciprocity. imagine this a love song, me Billy Joel and you, Uptown Girl, imagine the miles stretched out between us crumpled away like two ends of a paper ball, imagine you road trip and me apology imagine us in some hot town that knows us, with hair that smells like smoke and matches in our pockets.
maddie-fay
Written by
maddie-fay
Feb 10, 2019
Feb 10, 2019 at 9:57 AM UTC
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