I keep my carelessness in a matchbox.
You are the last splinter
and you are my last chance
to use spontaneity as an excuse
for this wildfire
of a life.

It’s second-degree arson
with two syllables
and two beings
that are said to belong
but its the intention I question
and know I am wrong.

Just one more glance and I’ll set it to flames
because living for anyone but myself is recondite
when I am the catalyst and they are in love.

Maybe I’m a narcissist
or maybe I’m just sick
of feeling things beyond
anonymous heat
and the oxygen
I already breath.


About Robyn

"If you haven't known insanity, you haven't lived."
This entry was posted in Love, Love, Life and Other Trivial Pursuits, Recovery (USA) and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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