Like silks saturated in gasoline,
My heart burns slow, dank yet ready to burst.
The poisonous glances of contempt thrown my way,
the low flying words,
rewriting a past
which to me seemed sun filled and light,
Woven into passages dripping with my failures
and weaknesses,
Wiping away all that I am.
Each word,
singeing rivulets of butane
work their way through the weave,
microscopic rivers
lifting the colors
from my silken marrow,
until my skin, blistered,
feels even caresses like flames.
So drowned,
I hold my breath,
fearful that one move to swim
and I will explode.