I choke the memories
With the purple smoke that fills the room
And I breathe the sweetness of it
So it lights tiny fires all down my veins,
Burning out at the skinny tips
Of my capillaries.
There is fire in my fingertips.
YOU ARE READING
clean
Teen FictionAll Anette wants is to forget. Benedict wants her to be clean. She's not sure the two are synonymous.