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Palpebra Jan 2
.
yo ur
to   u   ch
ign   i   tes
my  heart
set ting
m y
******>u l
on
f i
re
gi
vi
ng
aw
ay
yo
ur
pa
rt
ta
ki
ng
in
my
de
si
re
Erin Suurkoivu Dec 2016
and it isn’t so odd that
we become each other’s
caretakers, as like
children, we reach for love,
as if we’ve never endured
a long winter’s night alone,
hope the last matchstick
lit in our hand.
Maria Imran Aug 2016
• not sad. not sad at all.
• this ache is too indescribable for being real
• I die every time. then again I live: to die
• you took away my prose. you snatched my poetry and burnt it
• matchsticks and broken hearts
• voids and monotonous escape routes
• aren't we all waiting?
Clindballe May 2014
I found a matchstick
lit it
then threw it away.
Written: May 23. - 2014

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