he was the boy
that played with matches
and she was the girl
he wanted to burn.
so he lit fire to her heart
and set it to ashes
and then picked up her remains
and smashed the urn.
-k.d.
YOU ARE READING
life as we know it
PoetryBeing a poet is like being really sick. But instead of vomit, words come out. This is my word vomit.