input/output five

i miss you.
im not even sure who you is. an amalgamation of every girl i’ve loved since i was sixteen, your eyes fading into the dim of memory without passion. i’m trying to reclaim it, reclaim exactly who i thought i was talking to.

i am hot.
maybe it’s the fire in my lungs, choking me when i open my mouth to speak. maybe it’s the way my blood boils when i think of you, the pressure crushing my heart and causing lust to rise to my eyes and blind me. i’m spitting up ash and crying desire. my teeth ache, my marrow is grinding in my bones.

i don’t know who you is. i have a feeling if you look at me, i’ll burn. burn until every cell in my body is ash.
every cell aches to be your sun.

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