i like fire. it doesn't leave much traces.
some may say i'm a pyromaniac. i burn stuff, things, people. i burn their lingering scent, their flittering touch, their whispering voices, i burn them all, all left will be ashes and. . . nothing.
i close chapters/pages of people by burning them off. write their names and burn it off. write their phone numbers and burn it off. write a heartfelt letter to them -- i never give them though -- and burn it off. write a poem and burn it off, and flush the ashes down the kitchen sink. burn them off.
we all have different ways of letting go of people that are no longer beneficial, and proves to be toxic, this is mine, i love to watch them burn, till there's nothing to remember them by.
you think i'm a psycho?, i think so too.
there's an inextinguishable fire in me, and it's burning. it burns always, it burns me, it changes me, strengthens me.
burn, bitch.
_________ ellie a. o.
YOU ARE READING
Something Mending -- VOL 1
PoetryOf Breaking hearts, young love, betrayal and pain. Of Mending hearts, familiar pain, unexpected hurt and aftermath. Of Healing hearts, underated heartache, pain and acceptance. Of Love, Love that is as deep sea. Pain, that knows no bounds. Strength...
