gasoline.
each time she hit the ground
she stayed down ‘till it was safe.Â
then she fixed her makeup, carried on
and hid beneath a poker face.Â
she held her tongue each time
new bruises would appear.
there was refuge in the darknessÂ
although she lived in fear.Â
they could take away her reputation-
strip away her pride
but she could save a little face
if no one heard her cries.Â
so she chose armor over solaceÂ
then removed her heart from her sleeve.Â
now she’ll trade her tears for acetone.
her blood for gasoline. Â
I’m giving you a warning.Â
I’m giving you a chance.
remember to consider this
next time you light a match.












