the flames dance over the written pages the stories of us together, our prosperity written in paragraphs our success written in sentences these words are now burnt, ink dripping down these words are now worthless just used space and time these words are nothing like how your presence is to me this is a burn poem, it’ll be set on fire, pieces of ashes that’ll flutter away this burn poem will be a reminder of my resentment towards you, a reminder of the damage you put me through i’ll watch this poem burn the charcoal-colored pages bending as they wince fiery hatred, pure filth but filth is what you called me, that the ground doesn’t deserve the weight of my body but the weight of your ego drags down your worth now you’re set free from my mind, ashes into the wind my heart was once warm of love for you, but the only thing now burning are the pages of what I thought love was this is a burn poem, soon the debris will be carried away
