Did I tell you that my lungs burned the first time you told me you didn’t love me?
It was like my first taste of a cigarette,
Except your words never left me any kind of head rush.
My blood was replaced with liquid gold,
When I first yelled “*******” at the top of my lungs.
My veins encased with silver with every step I took.
The boiling point of gold and silver are both well over two thousand degrees celsius.
I swear that night I blistered out of my own skin,
Cauterized my own heart,
To never feel the pain of something so deep.
My hands were scorched with how much time I had spent,
Attending to your needs and pushing my own away.
My eyes begged for relief.
Every inch of skin you had ever touched continued to ignite long after you’d left.
And so in a final desperate attempt,
I say farewell,
To what we once had.
This is my goodbye,
The letting go of all my charred remains.
Lewis Mundt wrote about how people were made of 72.8% water,
To this day I believe,
I was 72.8% lava the night we said we’d never be.
i wrote this when i broke up with my first boyfriend at the tender age of 15
