The things that start my fires,
keep burning down this house.
When the paper reaches air,
I rarely like the smell.

I will cut down this tree,
to make the stake where I write your name. 
I shall bury it in earth,
and mark the place your memory will stay.
The flowers may come with time,
but not with me.
Only runoff will unearth you,
as I will run away.

I'm not over her,
Though painful,
Without it,

?

The foundation of my childhood home,
Became the foundation,
Of an inferno.
She is the firewood,
She is the flames,
She is fulminating,
Just as a name.

It horrifies me she will never feel the heat,
Nor see the lights,
As this will never scald her skin,
Nor scorch her eyes.

A hospital visit,
And she's the ticket.
Take me to heaven,
A blade to my abdomen.
I wouldn't mind,
I wouldn't mind.
Pain's the only thing,
That makes me feel alive.