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Everything of Yours Must Go Now, Even If It Burns
I write about my ex a lot, we didn't talk much, but our tongues touched, we used to have sex a lot and it was so hot that it set my soul ablaze, and no, it wasn't my first time, but damn, he sparked something in me, I was ready to tell my mother I am in love now and I am a woman in ways I never was before, I hoped that these flames never go out, I'd proudly show off these burn marks and these scars, I'd leave my Neosporin at home. I said that I needed someone to come along and break my heart, but no, it was only a joke, I just needed that spark to write, something to get me fired up, something to get my pen scalding ink into the page, but why did it have to be pain? You were never good at detecting sarcasm, you were never good at reading my text messages, responding to my love, my love this burns, I have reached my boiling point everything of yours must go now. Take back those texts which were more like I was conversing with myself, the phone calls that were always convenient for you, the "baby, I really want to see" when you felt like being bothered, the "I miss you" when you wanted to slide inside me, because remember, we didn't talk much, our bodies touched, we used to have sex a lot, naive of me to think that lust could convert to love so easily, you quickly reminded me that I am was playing with fire. Take back those shirts and hoodies that used to smell like you, the ones that I would breathe in deeply when you weren't in my presence, take those good days back, they cloud my judgement and make me forget that the bad times outweighed the good like a fat kid on a seesaw, take back those words, you didn't mean any of them, those lies that stuck to my thighs, this body tagged with your graffiti, this love that was never reciprocal, never equal, I love math but I have always had a personal beef with improper fractions, take this body, this vagina-WAIT. Actually, just bubble wrap that and put it in a box and send it back to me, I will be sure to give it to someone more deserving than you next time. My friend warned me after our second break-up that this is dangerous, but I said no, I waved her off, that because you, an arsonist and me, a pyromaniac, that this is just the way our love goes, I turned off the sprinklers, ignored the beeping of the detectors, I snatched the batteries out after a while, I told my friend no matter what do not call 911, do not extinguish this, there is no point, this forest fire destroys everything in its path, this love is a slow burn. There are things that you can't take back, things that you want to give back, or throw away, they still find a way back into your attic, or back in your bed, or lodged into your brain, I remember scrolling Twitter once, and landed on one of your tweets, you said that you was just dating but it was nothing special, and that caused my heart to combust, as if implying that I was nothing special, like I didn't concave my body in the ways you wanted me to, like I didn't engulf myself in submission, like I didn't become the woman that you wanted, nothing special and that burned like spraying perfume into my eyes, and that singed like rubbing alcohol into a fresh wound, hurtful pits of rage, I felt flames coming from my ears, I spat venom, I became a Komodo dragon, I became dead set on ruining everything you owned, my blood simmered, it reeked of the smell of my bubbling flesh, I have reached my melting point, everything of yours is gone now. At least I can say I tried even when it went up in smoke, I coughed and choked and my eyes ran tears, I am the last thing to go, and though this pains me, I must leap from this burning building even if it means I'll break my legs, at least I know about sacrifice, at least I know about love though not much to show for it but at least I tried; I am the one who flew too close to the sun, I am the one who couldn't control the chariot and Zeus had to strike me down, I came back alive as a firefly, pray you get to catch me next time, I arose from the debris blemish free, my friends will say look how you glow now, and I will say yes and I now have tons of material, but why did it have to come from pain? I hope you are scrolling on Twitter or Instagram or see me in person and I am smiling, and you think wow what happened to all of her scars, isn't she something special, she looks so beautiful, she is so happy, without me...without me? And I hope it burns your hearts to ashes
Copyright © 2024 Pippi B.. All Rights Reserved

Book: Shattered Sighs