burnt.

the sun often stares at me
hiding itself behind the trees
i can’t look it in the face
or linger too long in it’s embrace
it damages my eyes
gives me premature lines
it can kill in fact
which is so sad
despite it’s warmth

it’s not that good for me
however much i love it.

it makes me think of you
the way you hide truth
warm and sweet
a dangerous treat
basking in all the joy
is only a ploy
for me to think we are one
like soaking in the sun
only to realise
you lie to my eyes
and hurt me to my surprise

you’re not that good for me
however much i loved you.

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