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I was born in a rose field-
taught that the world was made of thorns,
and to live was to pierce the soles of my feet.

so I remove my shoes and dig my toes into the ground-
I’d rather scar than be sheltered

I was raised in a wildfire-
taught that words were made of flames,
and to speak was to blister the buds of my tongue

so I coat my throat with gasoline and swallow down a match-
I’d rather burn than be silent
The edge of my eternity begins with you.

My love, I lulled you with lyricless lullabies, sheltered you in a sheet of stars, yet, in your sleep you still speak her name. "Inferno," was it? You always were a pyromaniac.

I furnished you flames to tame winter's teeth, and yet, you still use them to burn me. How can you pour that boiling blackness in my bloodstream and dare to call it love?

You leave coal-like clouds swirling stormily in my lungs and the taste of smoke to scorch my tongue. Still, my throat is raw and red from coughing up ash and blood, still you call this torture love, and, I believed you.

Tell me, do my mulberry scars entice you? Those marks mingling with my skin of moss and morning glory; you put those there. You made a hell of my skin to rid me of the blue-green, beryl-shaded "blemishes" that provide the very breath you waste, only to build a factory to pump more poison into my lungs. I can taste the tar on my tongue.

My love, as you tear at my being with your careless claws you seem to forget the fact that you need me, but to me, you are meaningless.

Where I was once a sanctuary of life and beauty, you have made me a battlefield- a cemetery of living corpses craving to leave behind bombs and bloodshed, to cure their heart wrenching homesickness and to fall asleep in their lover's arms.

Why must their precious rubies mingle with the ashes of detonation? Why do you **** each other when I have provided you with my harmonic grounds as a home? Why do you raise your children to believe that dying is an art and death is an escape?

My love, I cannot understand why your knees are pained and purple from praying to the angels when you dance so divinely with the demons that you have created. You deserve each other.

Don't you see that you are burning me alive? Can't you smell my cooking flesh or see the charcoal clouds smothering the sky? How can your seeing eyes be so blind?

My love, my death is yours, and if I shall burn you shall blaze beside my broiling bones.
Lyrical Dream Aug 2021
Fair goddess, strip me of my wings
And cast my body to the sea

Atleast then I become the rain that kisses your cheek-
the morning dew that brushes your ankles-
the snow that rests upon your raven lashes.

For as Icarus envies the sky for embracing the sun, I envy these things in their gorgeous simplicity

And yet,
they dwell oblivious to the fortune they posses-the gift of touching you
Lyrical Dream Aug 2021
At times, I find myself yearning for you.
A craving becomes a hunger,
And a hunger,
a starvation.

Shall I pray for a cure to this sin?
The way my collar aches for your kisses-
Your breath,
Hot against my throat

The way my mind wanders to where your hands could trail-
trickling down my skin like the heaven's rain

Am I evil to believe your touch is god?

Love, If I shall pray, I pray to you.
For your hands heal my lonely flesh

And, Lord,
if this is a sin,
make me burn.

Take me to hell and back-
Set me on fire and bless me a godly insanity

For you I'll burn again and again-
hotter than the sun,
Longer than infinity
Lyrical Dream Aug 2021
If insanity is truly a blissful ignorance,
then take my mind so my heart can be free,
set it on fire and gift the ashes to the wind.
If I shall burn, then I burn like Icarus,
euphorically and foolishly in love.
Lyrical Dream Sep 2019
she wasn't his world.

no, to him, she was so much more.

her heart was the sun,
shining on even the darkest of days
and bathing the world in its gentle warmth

her eyes were the sky,
deeper and more infinite than the sea
and bluer than the finest sapphire

her cheeks were the constellations,
dotted with dark freckles like stars
against her rosy skin

and she was the universe,

the universe and infinity,

infinity and everything beautiful between the tips of its star-speckled wings

she wasn't just his world,
she was his everything.
Lyrical Dream Aug 2019
When I die,
grind my dry bones into dust,
sift the stardust from the ashes,
and throw my ashes to the sea so that I may become one with the rain and touch all the places I never got to see...
this is my death wish
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