it was tempting to assume
that your choice perfume
was tried and infallible

but when you held a match for those you missed
we learned the essence of your wrists
was "eu de flammable"

it had you running in a circuit
fluttering your arms
as flakes of epidermis
were rupturing, flames covering, up your arm and to your hair

what a surprise ending
can i have your lungs?
it sucks to see you blemished
can i have your old toaster?
and your old poster of avril lavigne
and your 40" plasma TV?
cuz we both know it's not what you need
when you're spread in tiny pieces across the sea