Matchstick Girls

I’ve traipsed my way
through someone’s love again.
Completely thoughtless
to the consequences
and it’s only fitting that the axe
falls heavy on my head.

Because I’m to blame
for burning through good girls
like matches I can’t’ light

All He wanted
was the ring in his pocket
to glitter round her finger
and Her, his home and hearth
for the rest of their days.

And I the dower downpour,
snuffed her like
so many brief indulgences.
Now she’s his soggy tinder,
and I can’t even remember
what it was like to feel her
aglow in my cheeks
and the chill is setting in.

So I’ll stomp my feet and
cup my empty hands
in the shivering cold
on the outside looking in.
And I know.  

I’ll be the kindling in someone else’s pyre soon enough.

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