My days are all the same.
My feelings are all aflame.
Tell me, is it thirst?
If I drink water,
will the fire
stop being
a part
of my
self?
Tell me
what it
feeds on.
Tell me
what it
eats.
Tell me how
I can stop
myself
from
being
what
this
fire
needs.
-H I R A Y A.
YOU ARE READING
1:11
PoetryBetween sunsets and sunrises are a bunch of poems that may mean nothing or may mean everything. Between sunsets and sunrises I am not afraid of the dark, I am fond of it. Part II of The Zeros. Made it to the wattys shortlist!
