Maybe she was looking for somebody to warm
her up all the time and God, when it got
too dark outdoors you cried kerosene and set
fire to yourself just to provide her safety and security.
And maybe it's true that everything
comes in a paradoxical form and that's
why even though you were born from
a warm womb, your soul was so icy cold
she burnt her fingertips just touching it
and probably mistook it for the heat she
had always been longing for. I know that it's ironic,
I know that your dreams lay somewhere
beside her perfect body and shiny hair
but your reality is four suicide
attempts and cutting your wrists open
over some permanent tattoo where
her love was supposed to be skinned.


-- Eleanor