Literature
no, i didn't leave the stove on, i promise
i am in love with burning,
but i am out of matches, which is to say
sometimes, i think of myself
as a house, except the house is empty,
and cold, and no one lives here anymore -
the house is empty and i have no matches
so i am the match and i am the house
but the house is empty inside -
so i light myself on fire
just to feel alive. i'm sorry, i told you,
let's be honest this time,
and i meant it. let's start over. okay.
this time, i'm a kitchen, except the groceries
were left out on the counter,
and they're rotting, and the cabinets
are all open
but no one looks inside -
and how on earth can anyone
make dinner like this? i could light it a