Methanol
You were my first secret handshake
but handshakes are history,
why should I befriend a snake,
when I could avoid the misery?
I'm not imploding from the pain
of having no real closure,
no need for guilt to
build my heart a terrain
over your lack of composure.
The smiles you saw
after I pulled the trigger,
after my deed,
were a symptom of no remorse,
no blister
for plucking power out of a weed.
- Crimsyy
A/N: Thankyou so much for reading/voting/commenting on Burn and adding it to your various reading lists! If you'd like to, vote and comment what you think of this poem - how you interpret it or how you think it could have been written better ☆
YOU ARE READING
Burn (#Wattys2017)
PoetryThere are cigarette lighters everywhere you turn. Welcome to my new book, Burn! I hope you enjoy it (: - Crimsyy
