sweat clothed me like
a bad dream and I thought of
the way you’d look at me with
spite in your fire eyes, and in my
tossing and turning I wished to
In this heat I once
took solace; you were my furnace
and you kept my hands warm.
Now I cannot find you,
cannot try to, do not want to.
You are not
who you once were.
This bad dream is not a dream
for I am wide awake, my dilated eyes
and sweaty forehead fixated like a compass
on the ceiling, caught pointed upwards,
a sinister reminder: heat rises.
Sometimes who we once were
makes us forget who
You are a stranger with memories,
and I’m burning to