And you are the fire in my veins
sizzling
and traveling up my neck
licking my collarbones
skimming the underside of my ribs
finally you reach my ears
tickle them
and slip in to my brain
burning it in to
a s h e s.
YOU ARE READING
jumbled thoughts.
Poetrysometimes you need to bleed out words to feel okay. sometimes those bled words take the shape of a poem.
