Red Hair, Dark Heart
Her hair a riot, fierce and free,
a wildfire turned to thread.
She breathes in smoke,
exhales the stars,
and dreams on ashes’ bed.
Her heart — a velvet lock of night,
where secrets twist and hum.
She loves like thunder loves the sky,
then wonders why you’re numb.
No saint, no sinner, just the flame
that burns what can’t depart
the girl with sparks beneath her skin,
red hair, and a darkened heart.
She moves through rooms like sin,
a storm behind her eyes.
Men crave her warmth,
then drown within
the flood of her disguise.
Each lover leaves a trace of smoke,
a promise turned to coal.
She gathers embers, lights her way
a phoenix made of soul.
And when the dawn forgets her name,
she’ll smile, and start anew
for those with fire in their veins
burn bright, but never through.
About the Creator
Marie381Uk
I've been writing poetry since the age of fourteen. With pen in hand, I wander through realms unseen. The pen holds power; ink reveals hidden thoughts. A poet may speak truth or weave a tale. You decide. Let pen and ink capture your mind❤️
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Comments (2)
Marie, this piece radiates with intensity and elegance. Your imagery of fire and ash beautifully captures both destruction and rebirth, embodying the duality of passion and pain.
And they say blondes have more fun. Is that why redheads are known as fiery. Good job.