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the edges of the letter shriveling as the fire consumed.
the fire, the fire, and a love letter never delivered.
ink and bullets and a frail cup of tea.
tangled limbs and curving lips and i couldn’t see.
i want to scream until i wake from this dream
the window to freedom was open but the
chains strangled me.
bright, bright eyes and apathy gleaming out from under every closed door.
i wanted her, wanted her for myself,
no one else.
dreams, toned bitter with illness,
shaking, drenched in cold sweat.
whisper and shiver but the more you tremble, the more you give away
the fever rises but we keep dreaming,
she murders me each time she smiles.
i’m poisoned,
but i don’t want the antidote if it means losing her.