I'm fine with knowing that the only thing that gives you peace is the charred pieces of me you leave behind in your wake
Your burns just feel so good on me
The debris you leave Behind I'll steadily clean
I'm your maid, somehow I know you were made for me
You leave behind singed sheets and skin
still the burns look so good on me
you're my clever Arsonists and I can't stop feeding your flame
YOU ARE READING
Letters to Me
Poetrythis is a collection of poems written by me. Please feel free to leave any constructive criticism in the comments I'm always open to feed back.
