
I find myself clinging to the remnants of your presence,
Wounded by your incandescence,
It’s etched onto me,
Seared into my skin at third degree,
Your lips break my skin,
Though to my chagrin,
You flicker before my eyes,
And hum a few lullabies,
I can feel myself slipping,
Feel my heart ripping,
My claws dig into your arm
As you get undone like a charm
© 2025 C. H. Gökdemir. All rights reserved.

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