It’s midnight, and no one’s touched you-
With no hands on your dress, nobody to be lost to,
You’re panicking, a step outside for a cigarette hysteria,
Your mind wandering aimless, wondering and starving
And I was thinking I would chase you,
Step outside after you, be the next boy to catch your eye and try to keep you,
To pour gasoline between us, drop a lighter and walk through to you
But you saw me standing there, blew smoke and shook your head, you said,
“Put out that fucking lighter or I will ruin you, put it out
Before I unlock you and leave you to burn, before I push you away and leave you in ash,
Just as I have everyone else, just like everyone else will do- it’s just that
Some of us arsonists actually can’t bear to stay and watch while all your lights go out”
And I was thinking I could catch you, like you were a firefly and I held a mason jar,
Instead of the impossibility of that fucking lighter in my gasoline hands
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