Fire Starter

And if for just this moment,

I don't have to think

about a single thing 

other than your legs wrapped up in mine,

our connecting sweat,

and the immense love I have for you -

then let the passion ignite.

Five Thousand Six Hundred and Seventy Two

 Trigger Warning:
This poem is directly influenced by a negative part of my life 
and I caution readers to make the smart decision of only reading this if you are safe.


I remember your teeth being rotten, your nails jagged and long -
I remember the high pitched squeal when you whistled that song.
I keep a photographic collage in my head of who you are -
Small kid with a sick obsession of causing lifetime scars.
Twisted and mental, your trick was striking fear,
knowing I would believe every single thing that I could hear.
The sound of my brain screaming made it difficult to understand,
The movements of your extremities were never helping hands.
You tied the noose around this life that I continue to live in,
making me question every freckle presented on my own skin.
Red eyes, I swear to god, you're the devil in so many ways,
orders kept me on my knees, and like a canine, I obeyed.
A thief of epic definition, you stole the one thing I can't get back,
along with the light in both my eyes and the courage I now lack.
The monster I encountered was never in my closet or under my bed,
he was living next door with his own master plan of getting inside my head,
and more than that, my little skirts too, six year old me is still scared to this day-
you've made me do a double take every time someone asks me if I want to play.
At this point you are imprinted in me, your poison still travels through my heart,
five thousand six hundred and seventy two days since you decided it was time to start.