Pyro;Mania

Posted: April 6, 2013 in Poetry
Tags: , , ,

I really thought she was it

The flavor of her fabric

The scent of her skin

But she was like everything else

My touch turned to ash

 

When I was a kid

I was sure I would die

Consumed by my conflagration

My affliction

This disease

I was infested

Like a dog with fleas

Burn-holes everywhere

I’d even burn myself

In order to prepare

 

I thought it would stop with the drugs

 

But these holes just keep appearing

 

Top-layers of my skin disappearing

 

Even my brain is a mass of scar tissue

 

I know there is a pyromaniac out there

That God made just for me

One that won’t flee

When the house catches fire

http://zenspeaknine.com/

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Comments
  1. Haaaa…….I’ve burned many things in life, but if you don’t you won’t renew like the snake skin in the cycle of this life seeking new visions and hopefully wisdom. I keep a set of matches in my purse 🙂

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