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-
Burned. Drained.
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,
it's hot
and the battle recommences….
