How does it feel
to have my name rhymed
With both sunsets
And haunting,
to be touched so delicately
like porcelain
but every touch burns;
As if yearning
to have me closer
is like sinning--
Like too much of me
could send him
between soaring to
high heaven
and tormenting hell,
Confused why everyone
but him
seemed undisturbed
by the way I entered the room
Leaving shadows of my presence
How does it feel?
Would it be unbecoming
or reviving?