Where do the gentle go
When they are weary
I have been here far too long

When will I be free from the confines of my brain
Is this only a temporary setback
Or is this a permanent problem that will linger

Flickering vibrant life
Alive
Flames in your eyes
Tell the story of your life
Smoky hues of struggle
Rich blues of the destructive side
Your fire pleads for life
Raw and barren flames
Asking for respite
Fed to stay alive
Squashed enough to die
Your flame is brighter than this hue
Let it grow
Till it blazes
And you fear it burning you
Then you will see the fire in my eyes
And our dance will light the night

we do not write poetry
we write mirrors
which are held up
to curious faces
who read
looking for their
own reflections

I am happy that time flies
Cause then I can think of time as the bird
I watch from my balcony
Stopping by here and there
to say hello
Then taking flight
to remind me he doesn't belong to me
I know we can be friends
when I hear him chirp as I sit inside
As if he's telling me to come sit with him
But he is not a tangible creature
and would take flight once again
If I ever tried to reach for him