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It was a pleasure to burn standing over smoldering ash, watching his face crisp on a glossy 4x6 print I spit into a heap of blackened memories I promised myself that this would be the last piece of me he would ever consume. I swore to anyone who would listen, I was through with his twists and ties of lies.   Yet, I was still tangled in his grip; beset with spite, my mind muddled through dark daydreams of revenge. A sudden flash regained my consciousness as the barn’s worn wooden beam erupted into flames. I knew I had to split before I too, crisped into cinders.
0
Feb 15, 2013
Feb 15, 2013 at 11:58 PM UTC
It was a pleasure to burn
It was a pleasure to burn standing over smoldering ash, watching his face crisp on a glossy 4x6 print I spit into a heap of blackened memories I promised myself that this would be the last piece of me he would ever consume. I swore to anyone who would listen, I was through with his twists and ties of lies.   Yet, I was still tangled in his grip; beset with spite, my mind muddled through dark daydreams of revenge. A sudden flash regained my consciousness as the barn’s worn wooden beam erupted into flames. I knew I had to split before I too, crisped into cinders.
kate-richter
Written by
American
Feb 15, 2013
Feb 15, 2013 at 11:58 PM UTC
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