When I was 6 I liked to walk on burning pavement.
The heat on my flesh was electrifying, if I moved fast enough it was like I wasn't aflame at all.
besides, if it got too hot I could bury my souls in the earth.
the soles were buried too deep.
I used to set myself on fire.
water would shoot onto my back, the shield for my small, curled body.
crying was useless.
It didn't soothe my cherry back.
but for some reason I kept going back for more.
I used to play with lighters.
I'd dare myself to inch my finger
closer
closer
closer
nothing inside me would catch.
I am unable to spark.
that feeling is worse than letting the flames swallow me whole.
at least then I was able to experience something.
I'm no Phoenix, I just have the eggshell and the ashes.
YOU ARE READING
Olive (Poetry Vol II)
PoesiHello dear reader!!! Welcome to Olive, my second book of poetry! Here I will be compiling my original poetry. My uploading will be spontaneous, because I work in short bursts of creativity, so apologies in advance. If you are looking for more of my...
