The lights,

how they blaze.

They hit me at the speed of themselves.

With the obvious attachment,

that there's no one home.

Your hands could close around mine three times over,

And you could destroy me three times more.

The thrill of avoiding your character,

is making the poor girl hysterical.

I was the one who destroyed any devotion,

you may have ever felt.

I made you chose, and you picked uncertainty.

I want the third wheel back.

Your body is so hot, immoveable,

and ripe for the stealing.

You open like a coal black flower.

Leave me to burn in the furnace,

for a few seconds more.