a thousand fires
a freshly cut, white, bloody rose, just for you love; lies in the pit of your heavily, soft hands, suddenly it flickers; burns to the stem.
it's ashes remain extinct in your now headed palm.
you suddenly feel your body burning now, and so it burst at the seems of a thousand fires.
YOU ARE READING
I Don't Miss You: Volume One
Poetrya bunch of thoughts my heart has spilled for your eyes to read. *soon to be officially published*
