Monday, May 13, 2013

She Could Have Burned A Hole In The Sky


I'm an open flame, sending sparks to the stars. I don't live at the campgrounds, but no one's calling the department because it's been raining for nearly a year. Pouring. Brilliant blues fade to warm yellows as cold bullets fall from the clouds. I was never meant to be this rebellious, without the boundaries of stones. Defining. The rain pours harder to confine, to control. Dampening the paths I begged so desperately to illuminate. The rain holds me back, reminding me to stay where it can reach so I don't burn anything too precious.






I think I'm beautiful, but honestly, I'm destructive. I only wish to breathe without turning something into dust. I'm tired of consuming things the way I have consumed myself, engulfed in flames. I'm self destructing and running out of fuel. Burning at both ends, but the rain is relentless.

I'll be ash and not even lightning will spark me. 

How To Wake Up

It's a day to day routine and although you forgot to eat breakfast this morning, you're just running through the motions.
Taking a new route to school is not the same as skipping it to go remember who you are.
And yes, education is important, but so is discovering your dreams.
You sigh at break of dawn because over the past year, you can't recall anything different.
The clock still ticks it's taunting seconds and there is still dust gathering on the mantle.
And all this time you don't feel the butterflies breaking free from the cocoons at your ribs.
Begging you to do something more.
So wake up.
Stop looking for the right brand of 2% milk so you can serve cereal at 6:47 (since you're always  running late.)
And listen to the whispers in the cracks of your heart, before it breaks.


Tuesday, April 30, 2013

Broken Ribs

 I wonder if the sky loves the rain so much, it hurts it let it fall.

Stability Is Not Sanity

"I'd rather have you miserable with me than happy with another guy."
"But why?"
"Because I'm a selfish bastard and I'm happy with it."

The insanity of excuses, and I could make a million for the days I didn't call. Except the one printed on to my fingertips, it's been dialed so many times. Everyone sees but no one speaks because all the flutters out of my mouth is excuses.

And it was never the thorns that cut me, it was the petals that reminded me.

I've never been here, but hold on to how it felt when I entered. Is there anything better than the illusion of perfection? Or do I fall in love with it because that's what they were?

Let me tell you the truth, I'm not pleading for any escapes. Pounding at the walls and screaming until my voice goes out was never my forte. I bite my tongue at my words because they are knives I am not prepared to use. I've seen them cut before and I still try to tend the wounds, wincing at the sight of them.

But there is a war within me, I know I've been fooled, I've been wasting away, wandering down this path too long. I love those eyes though, and the way I laugh at the words that flow from his lips. I love his hands, and the way they feel against mine. The honest question to ask, is do I know better than to stay?

"If you hate me so much why do you stay?"
"Maybe because I love you and hate it admit it."


Sunday, April 21, 2013

The River Can Wash Me Away



Loosen the knots, and take your time, I know you're not a sailor. But you're sure and that's a start, these ties were never meant to stay. Each strand threaded with the days we've spent together, but the matches are waiting in their perfectly fitting box. Get to the other side, love. Here's the gasoline, pour it behind you.

You look at me one more time before the crossing and I see in those storming eyes that this is no mistake, but you take me in and kiss me anyway. A kiss that tastes like summer nights and desperation. But the moment is gone before I even open my eyes, and you're staring at me from across the gap.

Match is lit and set against the rope, it burns and cracks and sizzles. It sends sparks to the sky that disappear before me and as I look for you, you're gone. The smoke fills my lungs, but I'm used to the smell. The bridge falls, and I jump with it.