xciv. FAKING IT.
i am on fire.
my soul is turning to ashes, my body is bellowing out in pain.
watch as i stand, my skin slowly peeling itself away to the wooden floor. baring a cacophony of screams, my silence is ripping apart my throat. in the matter of minutes, i am nothing more than skeleton with singeing bones, my fingertips matching the way you light your cigar as you don't even bother to ask if i'm okay.i guess i don't blame you;you can't put out a fire that isn't there.
YOU ARE READING
on this day.
Poetryxvii, april. (ii). these words speak louder than i ever will. © playlist poetry h.r. : #55