At least I think it was love

I’ve heard about butterflies, but there are spiders in my stomach.

I tried home remedies to exterminate,

Now I’m sick

And high.

It’s that rush of too much chocolate,

And coffee and t.v.

And that first drag off a cigarette,

After a big meal, cooked with soul.

Once it was a beach fire,

A warm, bright beacon,

secure in its ring.

But in a moment of divergent gaze,

It breached its pit,

Morphed into a fierce inferno,

And made ashes out of my beautiful world.

The ripping flames rolled over me,

I was blinded.

My skin was burnt, scarred.

Alone

I stood and I shivered.

Love was gone,

And the air froze in my lungs.