Pyromaniac Poem by Annabel Cruz
Pyromaniac
Rating: ★4.0
Sulfur tickling the inside
Of my fuzzy
Nostrils
The acrid scent of
Burning synthetic
Victims
Blue pen caps
Melted to shiny
Plastic pools
Cotton balls soaked
In alcohol
Smolder like tiny
Dying suns
Decapitated matches
Buried in piles
Of ashes
My fleshy pink room
A battlefield
For a puddle of
Green soldiers.
Friday, February 11, 2011
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4/26/2024 1:59:22 AM # 1.0.0.1119
