15 : burn

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my tears will sizzle like water on my legs. the water in the shower stings on every part of me, the harsh whispers on my skin and the 268 degree temperature i placed the nozzle at. my eyes are no longer blue— they're red, like the color that represent fire and heat and pain and fury. my screams scorch acid in my throat and bubble out like lava, streaking mistakes and sorrows and shame secretly on my face as i muffle my remnants in a pillow. lastly, my habits of eating of caring of giving a fuck have burnt to the ground as i stomp delicately like a "weight loss fairy" on the ashes. you never did underhand the tumblr references.

but i bet you don't burn. i bet your room is cool and fresh, chilly even. the reality of your mistake drifts through the air. i hope to god you can play your stupid games and ignore the memories you have with me, even if they scratch at your mind like an abused dog in a cage. i hope you freeze over and realize what the fuck you've done.

I'd love for you to burn like me.

to feel.

to hurt.

to love like me.

but you were ice, and i simply burn you to the fucking ground every time.

but i always did...

—didn't I?

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