Someone, or something like it

I am a young lady, but I do not like to write like one.
I like to write like truckers, like benzedrine-laden Beat boys, I like to have words that spew across the page with random punctuation and random exclamations that make you feel like you've been slapped.
You will not get chains of daisies from me.


I pretend not to see that
He always has a .44 caliber tucked in his jeans; and he pretends
That he doesn’t notice me fading;
Our eyes swollen open from
Lack of sleep; hopeless in an
Empty field of moonlight; we are fucking diseased;
Lost in a wasteland
Of helpless breeze; the voices of a thousand losses blowing
Through our fingertips;
“You’re too fucking young to hurt like this.”
He cuts through the air, voice gnarled from
Too many cigarettes;
Eyes stinging and remembering,
How strong this is- this love is an insomniac dream;
Drinking hot gasoline on a summer night and
Handing you the matches; set me ablaze;
A child diving in the lake for the
First time, naïve and helpless;
I will light a fire within me and
burn out all the pretty;
I am a fucking inferno.
Stop me?
“Sometimes I forget that it’s scary here.
I forget how to breathe through all this smoke.”
Somewhere close the
Petals catch fire.
We searched everywhere for flowers, but we
Never found them.