Like a moth to a flame you were drawn to me
You a pyromaniac, I your muse
We got on like a house on fire
but I was the only one burning
You were light by name, gasoline by nature
you delighted in feeding the flame
watching the fire grow and consume me
I watched the sparks flicker and dance in your eyes
You were smiling.
This love was confusing
because the more I gave,
the more gutted I became
Hollowed by the flames
Like the aftermath of a house fire
The more your love grew
The more your desire…
this article was published in our print quarterly number seven, Words.
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