i promised id bake that apple pie

ripe and rotten, crusty dough

parched leather

and too much salt

not enough sugar

your eyes made me burn

i tried to use honey, but i used the sap from beneath our swing

it rusted to an iron taste

but it didnt make me stronger

because your eyes made me burn

i sifted what was left

i folded in some charm

i beat it into a wasted form

cinamon specks, curdled times

it warmed me to a startling state

it was winter

but your eyes made me burn

and the promise was broken

but long before this

so

go buy a pie from a Girlscout,

make one for yourself

because your eyes made me burn