Burn Me
STEPHANIE MACDONALD
You hurt me.
Of every minute, of everyday, I am in pain.
Your words and action are like knives.
Sharp and dangerous.
Those knives that glint, slash and stab me.
But those are only cuts, cuts that will heal one day.
This time though, I know you mean what you say.
A threatening gleam in your eyes, makes me step back.
Your words.
Some may say it’s a stab in the heart.
Quick and sharp.
But it’s not.
You set me on fire, and left me there to burn.
Every licking flame, hungry for my pain.
Arms reach within the fire, caressing me.
Those arms hold me there.
Agonizing pain, I feel like it will never end.
I see your eyes watching me.
Gleaming with accomplishment.
If only I had taken your matches.
I wouldn’t be thrashing and crying for your help.
It’s your fault, but also mine.
I taunted you, I tantalized you.
This was a game.
I pored the gasoline and you watched.
I tried to harm you, to ruin you.
You found matches.
You strike one, clearly intentional.
And you drop it. A raving smile on your once beautiful face.
A wall of fire encloses me.
Trapping me into the labyrinth I created for you with no way out.
You must take blame though,
You led me to the gasoline.
Every action, I pored a little.
My animosity getting the best of me.
You watched, until you saw that my handiwork was flawless for you.
Of course.
I did the hard part.
Didn’t you realise what I intended and did hurt me?
I didn’t want to abuse you.
I just wanted your love.
Your acceptance.
But I guess it was too much to ask.
Too much for you to do.
I now sit here, thinking.
I don’t regret what I did.
It was meant to be.
But I was right.
You were going to be the death of me.
