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Illustration by @luciesalgado
I was told never to play with fire,
but I still did,
and it was fun,
...until it burned my skin.
I stayed away,
but a moth kindling the fire with breathed poems called.
I got close when sparks rose— like a romantic prose.
It was really fun
...until my wings are none.
You can never hide the bitterness which lingered from all the what-ifs you cried for last night.
2161 Launches
Part of the Poetry collection
Updated on April 18, 2023
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