ANGELS ON CRACK

p h o e n i x

the hydrangeas in my irises shall bloom again.

the insolent fires that churn the ghosts of your touch shall consume the chrome plated brandy whispers that once crept up my ribcage and tangled rivets of marigold petals around the idyllic expanse of my lungs, stealing my breath and taking my force to merge it with his. my chest contracts, and i find it hard to let it expand.

(you suffocate me, my love)

golden wonder lined your lashes, and i thought they were the most valuable thing in this cruel, cruel world. i desired you for my own. but now, in blinding retrospect that burns my throat with a fiery rage that rivals even the greatest grudge any man could ever hold, i see that it was all fool's gold. the anger consumes me, and the pain reaches from my throat, to my lungs, making it harder to breathe in the wake of your destruction, for there is no fury greater than that of a woman scorned, and i am one ten times over.

and then, all my oxygen exorcised itself from my chest, the fire within is fanned, until it creates a great inferno that my irises lap up like it was pulchritidinous electricity coursing through my veins.

until, i burst into flames. and as i lay there, burning off the ghost of your touch, mimicking the snow as the warm rays of the sun descended upon the great frost, i exorcised the pain you left.

malevolent as i felt, i wished you were there, standing in the wake of my destruction, feeling the desolation as ash permeated both of your lungs with every laboring breath, while the baneful sparks scorched your dew-kissed skin with the shadow of my lips. i would have liked to see the scars i left on you, for it would have meant i had pierced through your frigid soul and taken a piece of it as a souvenir, just as you had mine.

i wished that the fire licked you and and you gave your hand willingly, allowing the odious flames to wrap around your hand, until they crept up your arm, across your shoulders, and blasted right through your heart. i would have given anything to know if it reminded you of me- you told me i was a zealous ball of fire who you could never hold on to for too long, but craved the pliant warmth that engulfed my being.

but most of all, i wished that, when you found the heat too much, you drew back your hand and tried to quell the fire, to chase away the cruel bite of the flames from your limb. and you would remember,

that you had done the same to me.

-

my fire has grown cold long ago, yet here i lay in the ashes, no longer razed by you.

i do not remember burning you,

i do not remember being burned by you,

but the only thing i do remember,

is that i was burning,

i was burning,

i was burning,

and that i would do it again,

in the name of us.

⚜️

wow psycho