Each next day a cycle
of firelit minds
behind eyes alight, blind.
Body blazing with the force of pounding hearts
that drown everything out
and me with it.
Until I scorch you
as you sear through the fabrics
of my skin, flesh.
You bled as I did.
The strewn of maroon
pulling us back. Together,
we wept separately.
I saw our hazy, hollow frames mirrored
in namelessness
weightlessness, less.
From your withered smile I knew
you too had forgotten
who drew blood first.
Lily Wang is a 16-year-old living in Melbourne, Australia. Her passions lie in literature, politics, and philosophy. She can often be found in the realms of a novel, immersed in an article, or in deep discussion with friends on a topic that knows no bounds. Lily is also guilty of watching and re-watching sitcoms while working on her latest knitting project.
