18 ● 05 ● 16
It started as something small, something harmless.
But that's how all wildfires begin, don't they?
One match, and you can still light a gruesome explosion.
One pull, and the grenade will kill us all.
Well, talking about infatuation, I may be exaggerating.
But you'll feel it grow.
It would bloom,
either into something tremendously
wonderful,
or deadly.
Sometimes all you'll feel is the faint thrumming of your heart against your chest,
and that's how you feed that desperate
feeling.
You thirst, you hunger,
for anything
that could bring that infatuation to an end.
Because it kills you.
Gradually
suffocating
your whole being
until
it consumes you.
YOU ARE READING
Summer Thoughts
PoetryFragments from my mind in written form which I either think of at the darkest hour of night or during an afternoon meal of only 45 chicken nuggets.
