20 of 30/ demise/ 48

I shouldve known it

wasn’t right when I had nothing 

to write about, should’ve

known the difference between

loneliness and love, should’ve 

known better- so blame me.

Blame me for the poetry I 

spilled across your life, the

intrusion I was, the heartbreak

I still am, I’m ready to 

serve as the sacrifice in this war,

because ever since this 

mistake was put into motion,

my conscience has been a 

siren, so burn me at the altar

of bad lovers, I can already

smell the smoke of my own 

ashes- I am ready for my demise.

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