In the event I burst
into flames, let me burn

Thoughts: they careen through my head like
cars in the midst of rush hour. I search for
one car in particular. My head is the foundation

of an unconstructed civilization, and I find myself
to be a tourist in the depths of my own mind. I
know all too well how easy it is for others to get lost

in the enigmatic chaos that is my head but I won’t
lose you. I am nothing, compared to the blinding lights
and insistent, blaring sounds, all warring for your attention.

I wander the streets with the sad, distant thought
that maybe I’ll glance up and find your headlights
slicing through the grey overcast. I’d even settle

for the looming red glow of your pretty, quiet
tail lights. But I know you’re long gone and your
lights are long out. The sad and beautiful part about

my mind is that I’m trapped here. And I believe I’d
still be searching for you, even if I didn’t want to. I’m
am a slave to my own thoughts, I am in love

with my mind’s creations. And while I’m well aware that
you are but a figment of my infinite imagination, I will do
everything I can to continue to believe in you.

I am merely a second of time, while you’re the hours
the days and the weeks; I am only for a moment and
you seem like an eternity. The people I pass on the street

know something I don’t - everyone seems to have
figured out how to live with their demons, while mine
like to play keep-away with my sanity. They look a lot like

you. Everytime you cross my mind it sounds a lot like
contorting metal and the shrieks of pedestrians. I suppose
we’ve got a lot in common with a car crash.

You are above me, for the simple fact that you are not me.
I am but a lonely piano player, who resides in the corners
of restaurants and blackened old hearts. You, with

glimmering eyes, and mischievous lips, dance barefoot
against the earth, the arches of your feet covered in free-verse.
I do not approach you; you are above me.

And here is something you may have overlooked
One room’s floor is another room’s
ceiling, and while you sway and dance and live and wander

you are inevitably doing so on my dreams. Burdened and breathless,
I sit and watch you move, up in the stars and the night and the
glow of the moon.

I look up and i see Heaven, you look down and you
see Hell. And as you bow your head to pray, just remember,
you are above me.

I was not informed that when you fall in love,
you’re supposed to shout ‘This Means War’
at the top of your lungs, and dare the world
to catch up with the soles of your feet. You

ran across plains and through valleys, the
soles of your shoes worn out from stomping
out tiny fires, all started by your temper. I was not

informed that you were permitted to burn down
and pillage villages with your careless acts of
lust. I've learned that the world is not exactly round
however it's magical in the sence that it’s got a

way of putting you right back in the spot you were
trying to escape from. I saw fighter jets and
missiles in your eyes, and felt bombs in your pulse.
I loved you, though. Your lips were the only thing left

of you. But even they swore and spewed anger. I
was not informed that when you fall in love, your
heart is supposed to die. You struck fear in the depth
of my soul...but I forgot:  ‘all is fair in love and war’.

I lost my mind whilst
trying to find my heart

I am not suicidal.
But life has lost all meaning.
While I may not go looking
for Death's hands,
if He found me,
and wrapped his fingers around mine
I think I just might
fall
     in
          love.