you left me burnt, a result of the matches everything was an illusion
covered in dirt
the memory in a box
you are a disgrace,
broken because of betrayal
it was a difficult betrayal,
it no longer matches
the disgrace
of the heavy illusion
left in the box
that you put in the dirt
everything is dirt
because of the betrayal
we put the memory in the box
along with the matches,
we were an illusion,
a disgrace
why are you a disgrace,
you are nothing but dirt
you are an illusion
to me, a betrayal
that will be burnt by the matches
do not worry, I will put holes in the box
you are still in the box
where a disgrace
like you should be, with the matches
waiting for you in the dirt
to mention the betrayal
but you still believe it is an illusion
it is not an illusion,
you will stay in the box
for the betrayal
and the disgrace,
you became one with the dirt
and with the matches
you are my illusion, my beautiful, magnificent disgrace
i put you in a box where you will stay hidden in dirt
my secret betrayal, still to be burnt by matches
YOU ARE READING
Box of Matches
PoetryBox of Matches is a poem I created in my intro to poetry class. It's written as a sestina and uses only words that appear in Gertrude Stein's Tender Buttons. Hope you enjoy it.
