I write poetry like it’s a vice

by remembertoexhale

only comes when another you arrives
like hot rods on my skin
the burn lingers long after you’ve gone

And I still can’t comprehend
how I could fall so easily
for an ugly truth
because I always dreamed of falling
for a beautiful reality

You smiled like you were sin himself
and your touch was a death
I died a thousand times over
from your hot rod fingers

And still
I would gladly die by your hands
if I could feel the burn of you once more