I once wished to have a baby with the devil, only to realize I was in love.
I am far away from hell and out of the woods.
No more rocks to start a fire.
No more sticks to feed the burned flame.
Only ashes told me we were there, except air blew them away before I had to scatter them myself.
I once wished the devil would make love to me. By the time I realized it, his fangs had sunk deep into my heart.
Had I pushed him, I wouldn’t have been cold-blooded by now.
I jiggled fireballs as my skin was peeling off, had gasoline in one hand, but dead flowers in the other.
I'm nowhere near fire again; I am coming close.
