I walk over the last of our spilled gasoline.
You love me when you're setting fires.
My nude stilettos are resistant to your matches
and I am untouched.
Addicted, we are each other’s explosive obsession.
We are broken and engaged
in a battle. A fight to the death…
I take blow for blow,
determined to walk away alive
with a heart BEAT..BeAt.. BeaT.. beat
Your remarks are flaming arrows,
pointed and released with such precision
from behind a stare of passionate intention-
I swallow them and spit them back
It’s a very slow, voluntary death-by fire.
We take this hellish match
of gladiators to a private room.
Grabbing your neck
you’ve got me by the hair
in the same dead bed of lost futures and dreams
We are a flammable couple-
Tumultuous, angry, and vicious
Everything I vowed not to be
in a Mr. and Mrs. Smith type relationship
except you’re no Brad Pitt….
I can no longer walk through this heat
just to prove my heart to you-
There are permanent markings, hieroglyphics
left on the walls of my interior.
The scars of a love gone wrong
I tempt you…
Light the matches of my darkness
and you will find a scorned animal seething.
Hissing, as I anticipate your presence
with heightened senses refusing to be defeated.
You look into my eyes,
kiss me with your teeth,
and the battle recommences….