I Dreamt You Were An Arsonist

You. It always comes back to you.

You say you know you will hurt me
But you don't want to.

I am terrified, so fucking scared.

The thought makes my heart pound,
my ears ring,
my mouth dry.

I am terrified.

But you love me.

You love me. ​
You're in love with me.

You love me, and it is hot and bright as fire ​­
it burns my very soul.

Outshines my fear,

Sears away my terror.

I must be a masochist ​­
or maybe just reckless.

But I trust you more than you trust yourself.

Yes, I'm fragile, ​­
flammable, even.

I would let you destroy me.

Set me on fire, ​­
little arsonist.

Let me burn.

I choose that. 

This poem is about: 
Me

Comments

Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741