Enjoying watching people burn with each word said, Leaving a blister on those that tried to touch.
Fiercely feisty she was as hot as an oven, Making her life inevitable for anyone to get too close.
Distancing herself from the world around she became thirsty, That boil she held was still too hot as she knew in her head.
Being hurt just one too many times, Slowly she began to not forgive, Living a life in her hot disguise.
She wasn’t born like this as it came with age, Now she is a woman filled with rage.
Unknowing how to turn down her temperature of this invisible haze, An anger so wicked like a scorpions tail.
Searching for some warmth in this life she held, Desperately learning how to not leave a scar instead.