You like to play with fire, but you pretend you're cold around the edges.
Though you talk a smooth game, your eyes play a different position.
I know you like the way it feels--
To be noticed by someone other than the one you love. Or pretend to love.
But what about her? The one you pretend to love?
She watches you skim the flames out of the corner of her eye. She notices the steps you take towards the scorching idea of something better, something hotter, some one more fit for you.
And with every move towards that light, you take a bit from her.
You make her the cold you pretend to be.
You make her the insecurity you dance around.
You make her the bitterness you create.
She feels her skin peeling away from the third-degree burns that your quiet infidelity torches.
Where your candle once lit lies a broken match unable to spark.
And no one can fix it, no one can stop it.
You're playing with fire, but she's getting burned.

Today I woke up with a paralyzing pounding in my head--
A feeling I had yet to explore.
My eyes burned with pain as my pillow offered no comfort.
I blinked once, twice, three times, as my brain declared war.

I felt my frontal lobe become a broken puzzle piece slowly disarming itself like Mr. Potato Head.
Throbbing, the ache now consumed my every thought.
It was as if my veins jutted out like long and windy cactus roots trying to reach the surface.
Marking their own territory on my pale-faced plot.

With nothing to do but nauseously wait for cease-fire,
I wondered what could have led to this distress.
But now that it's over,
It's not worth that stress.

Life is truly better alone,

            
                      
                          and yet I write in the journal that he gave to me.

Beholden.
I am for a tainted past.
Years of scars.
Inwardly vast.
Recollected memories so brawn.
In my dreams.
They will never be gone.
At a time..
Feeling worthless...
Knowing now.
A test..
A test of hidden purpose.
Purpose that has given me preparation.
Inspiration.
Determination.
Motivation for a delightful future is now my affixation.
I am..
Beholden.

Blind is the eye
That does not look at the blind
Deaf is the ear
That does not listen to the deaf
Dumb is the mouth
That does not speak to the dumb
Lame is the leg
That does not step with the lame
Poor is the land
That does not care for the poor
Futile is the life
That does not support the needy