The Last Arsonist Options

[Terror]

Something was clawing at me for a long time, so I just started to type.
Not sure if you would call it a poem, turned out really abstract, but this is what I came up with.




I’m feeling creative.
I’m gonna paint this wall with blood red regret. And have every single crimson ounce of pain drip down for days on end.
I feel like redecorating. I’ll break every f**king mirror in the house and replace it with black paint.
What’s the difference?
I’m feeling nostalgic. I think I’ll just dig up every buried photo of you, every damned note, anything that remotely whispers your name, and set it ablaze.
So I had better get started.
I’ll have to set fire to the Heavens, to God, the mountains, the Air.
To the trees and cars and stars. To the memories and plans and lives. To the failures and crushed dreams and filthy lies. To this damned prison, this damned place, this damned world. I’d let the whole planet burn and smolder and crumble, knowing that you and everything about you has turned to ash.
The flames won’t embrace you nearly as lovingly as I did.