a poetic prose
when the flame was small, i nursed it. fed it the secrets from in between my thighs. i wasn’t eager to hold on to them anyway. they had always made my thighs burn in a way my slit’s slickness could never cool. then i gave it my forearms. it wasn’t a worthy offering honestly. they weren’t strong enough to bear the weight of my misery. always giving out too soon. naturally, my shoulders wiggled free to leave with them. they had to make up for what the flesh below them lacked. but the fire remained small and ever-dwindling. so in went the fat of my breasts. i tried not to cover the deflated mounds, but eventually, i gave the skin up too. then in went my stomach and the hollow parts of my collarbone. but it was not enough. it wanted my eyes and all the fingers of my right hand, but i could not give them up. so i stole back the burnt pieces of me and welded a new body from the ash.
i want to express my heartfelt gratitude to you for taking the time to read my work. it really means the world to me. feel free to clap, comment, and/or highlight; your support is genuinely valued on my end. if you are curious on how to and/or willing to further support me. you can buy me a pen. i also value good ol’ fashion word of mouth, so please feel free to share my piece and consider exploring this blog post. thank you again for reading this far.
