There are times I dream of him,
and what he did to me.
In the mornings, when I wake,
I imagine leading him barefoot
through a maze of coals
across a quick highway,
famed for gang-related violence
and other natural disasters.

I might be burned.
I might be caught, but

it would be worth it,

to see his face
when he knew he was undone,
and it was all due to me.

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About Catastrophe Jones

Wretched word-goblin with enough interests that they're not particularly awesome at any of them. Terrible self-esteem and yet prone to hilarious bouts of hubris. Full of the worst flavors of self-awareness. Owns far too many craft supplies. Will sing to you at the slightest provocation.
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