i burnt
in
time
with the staccato
of the rain
howling
against
bars round
my room

i burnt
in
twisted words
an
unsaid
anger
and
riffing
nerves

i burnt
in
sanctuary
ice
cold
air soothing
frayed
hair

i burnt
in
whispers
echoing
in my
ears

i burnt
to
the ground
in the
heat
ed
words

Why do I find beauty in burning my bridges?
Immense heat, a false conclusion and less responsibility.
Damaged to the core
Broken promises, even though I swore.

Why do I find beauty in narcotics?
Escape this reality - caught within a warm grasp.
The reason why I am psychotic,
****, pills and antibiotics.

He's a fire
A burning flame of passion
But I'm a rock
I'm sorry, but I'll never catch

four fifty one deg-
ree Fahrenheit; your letters
burning on the stove