Burnt, Kill Me Now

Skin scorched to red-violet-black,

Pain subsides, and then, with fury, flares back,

Turning ash-grey-silvery-white, at the edges like paper or wood,

Maybe you'd end my pain if you could,

Heart blackening, burnt, crumbling like rotting skin,

Flesh-layer of burning bone is paper thin,

Would you kill me if I asked you to?

And is your too-quick reassurance true?

The End

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