Weariness screams through my mind.
Sleep barely seems here,yet
Sweet dreams
creep through my subconscious,
Bewitching my inner mind with
images of love.
To keep this love that haunts my
Smitten mind I submit to unconsciousness
Willingly, night after night.
Dream after dream
Ranging from normal and ordinary to overly surreal and bizarre.
Frightening, exciting, magical, melancholic, adventurous, ******.
As the dreamer, the events in my dreams are outside my control
Dreams are a sense of inspiration.
And beauty.

Fingerprints are like relationships
they leave a trace.
Your fingerprints are all over me
The whorls of your prints are seared into my skin
Into my soul.
I submit each time you touch me
set aflame by your caress.
Spiral patterns of you criss cross my body,
Your body.
Sparks of need jump from your fingertips
arcing into me, possessing, caressing,
they leave me breathless and defenceless
to the onslaught that will leave me inevitably,
wrecked upon our bed, like a trapped ship on the shore.

Were the world mine to give,
I would keep it.

You say
Get angry.
Well
If I get angrier
It will poison me.
Too loud,
Too much,
Too needy,
Too fragile,
Too raw.
Be quiet,
Be better,
Be reasonable,
Be mature,
Be gracious,
Be
Sorry.
I am so angry that tears do no good.
I am so angry that violence
Does no good.
I am so angry that lungs
Do no good.
If I were to cry enough to match the heat of my rage
I would boil.
If I were to hit as hard as I hurt
I would crack open the earth and crawl inside
Tear out its heart and swallow it
And the pressure of my fury would press it into a pebble.
If I were to scream loud enough to dull my thoughts
The glass would blow out in stabbing shards
From every window and revolving door
And melt in molten pools into the soil.
This body
Is not durable enough
For this soul.
I know it. I have seen.
It is like living in a china doll.
I can break it just by breathing.
How is it that somebody can speak
And a rib snaps?
A decision made
And blood wells?
I am sick
And I cannot tell if my disease is my mind
Or my stupid,
Listless,
Hopelessly inadequate casing.
I burn through it like acid,
And it suffers and complains
And I have grown so **** tired of hearing its
Aches and pains,
Its needs,
Its failings and betrayals.
I have been cruel to it and it has been cruel to me
For we are a poor match
But we are all there is
And all there has ever been
And I beg it to work with me
And it begs me to be different
Just like everybody else does
Just like I
Beg me to be different.
But I'm not.
I am this
And I can't help but think that maybe there is a chance
That I can expand
That I can reach out through these eyes
And touch something.
The world is so delightfully raw
And I can't tell
When I reach for it
If it recoils
Or if I do.
You have told me to be angry.
Has it ever occurred to you
That my vulnerability was learned?
That my weakness was imposed?
That my kindness only exists
Because of how horribly
Horribly angry I am?
If I could emerge from this...thing
I would touch the ground and level every city for a hundred miles
If I could be what I am
I would destroy everything I looked upon
Not through any malice
But through simple release
Because it is my nature, my way.
Earthquakes are not good or evil.
Fire, lightning. They do not discriminate.
They only touch
And things happen.
I could touch
And things would happen.
This body is my restraining order.
My reminder to control myself
My rebuke for my craving to be vast
My constant and insincere apology.
This body and I,
We don't hate one another,
We are just opposites. We are just two things
That destroy each other.
It is so fragile and light
And I watch from inside
Snarling
I watch and people pity me
People abuse me
People underestimate me
People
Force
Me.
I quietly let them condemn me for the covering I wear
Because I know nothing else.
It is an agony, to never be seen.
It is a punishment I have been searching for reasons for.
And yet when the light has touched me, and I have been truth
Whenever I have been witnessed in full
I have been loathed with such vitriolic venom that
My poor little shell quaked
Pale and skittering
My small white hands fluttered like moths immolating themselves in the flames of my heart
Too foolish or too mad
To resist their craving for warmth even when it turns them to ash.
You try it
You try
Taking a risk
When you know that your nine lives are down to one
You try flying
When you've got moth wings and the breath of a phoenix.
There is something
Burning
In here
And I've never wanted anything more than to show it to the world
Except to live
Except to continue
And so I hesitate.
You tell me to be angry.
You don't know what you are speaking to.
I have worn this body not like armor but like glass
And it has carried me like a ticking time bomb
But if I know one thing
And honestly
Just now
I only do
If I know one thing
It is that, like the sun,
Even if I am scalding hot with chaos and held together by fear
Even if I am, after all, untouchable
I will always rise.

Forgive me, for I am condemned.
My love I see you every night,
But the flames keep me away.

I try to reach out, to save you;
The heat is too intense, it defeats me.
I can not see you through searing pain.

Your screams tear me apart, I am beaten back.
Then there is silence and I hear you no more,
Tears fall, the agony as they trace my burnt flesh.

Oh Megan, I miss you more than life itself;
You were my life, my soul, my reason to be.
Why were you taken from me, love, pray tell me?

You now haunt my nightmares, I still hear you.
Your screams split apart my sanity, and the mirror;
It forever reminds me of this scar that Hell gave me.

Now I only have the darkness inside, and shown in words.
These very words I write, as if I am to be forever cursed,
Cursed to need to remember your face, with this dead heart.

It is a declaration of cowardice.
I put my pen down and
Step away slowly
[Defusing the letter bomb].
They don't always turn the
Other sheet, you know.

Sometimes the poem
Writes back.