I never realized that sobriety would become a personal hell.
I played with fire.
Hell, I laughed at the first spark
And as the days grew shorter I began to wonder
How many sparks till I get a flame?

The fire started and no help came
I lost my hands and eyes to collapsing beams
Yet no help came
I thought, maybe it would be better to let the flames take this home
But the ash and dry wall coated my lungs and nostrils
I screamed for freedom
For release
For a hero of some kind
For water, even a drop to bless my dried and cracked skin
For some ******* air
And as the fire claimed my home
And my body
And eventually, my mind
I grew silent.

The fire is gone now.
I can't feel the sun kiss my skin over the scars that encompass my roasted corpse.
I can't sing. I can't speak.
My screams are a whisper in the wind of a storm already passed.  

And as I recover my footing and senses
I am forced to remember what my own personal hell was
And face it

Do you tell me you love me with sincerity
Or is it out of guilt
Or is it out of pity

The scariest thing about life is never knowing who's saying those three cursed words
And who genuinely means it

Does it make me a weak man
To depend on medications to keep me sane
Or does it make me a champion
For knowing it

You once said you couldnt imagine a future without me
That you were made for me in a completely new way

I agreed
After all I can't think of anyone I'd rather roll alongside with

Then things got a little scary
Old problems of my past threatened me and tried making you a target
Only for you to put out those fires with ease, like your touch was made of the ocean.

Ive never felt like this towards anyone in my past
I doubt I could feel these emotions for anyone else

You've seen me at a valley, and helped me find my peaks
No matter what needed to be said you'd always reach

I can see how real it is every time you look at me,
Retouching on my soul like bread and warm butter
Repacking in my goal like a **** on a new ******

I can love you loud or quiet, it's entirely up to you
But the moral of this story is
Breazy, I'm in love with you.

I never get tired of being a passenger with you
Which is amazing because being a passenger in a car makes me writhe with discomfort
But you sing

Every time I hear you sing absent mindedly in the car
Or at work
Or when you're eating something yummy and humming alone
It reminds me of what true, real music sounds like.

My own songbird
Blown towards me by winds I cannot comprehend
To feed me something I'd gone without
Without realizing how hungry and malnourished I'd actually become

The shining, singing sun
Whispering to the sunflowers
Mimics her voice and lovely warmth across the planet
In her honor.

I had a dream about you yesterday.
It was of one of the nights we came back from the bar
Tipsy and making stupid inside jokes about the Spanish word for Oranges

The only reason I know it was a dream
Instead of me reminiscing in my sleep
Was because when you lit your pipe,
A piece of opal carved from the heart of the earth
My room melted away and turned to the night sky
With us sitting on a patch or grass yet to exist staring at it
You light some greens
And a the sky pops and lights up in response.

The purple lights turn to red and green streaked tenderly across a Christmas tree
In a home I've never seen, yet never felt so familiar with

The windows are frosted with snow and ice
Mountains and forest views buried under a peaceful sheet
You're opening presents.
A gasp fills the air and you start crying tears of joy
Another lighter flick

It's spring
I'm holding your ring speckled hand in my right
And the steering wheel to a car I've never seen in my left
Blasting songs with brief quiet intermissions to tell each other stories
Small streaks of grey dart across my short hair and you can't, or won't stop staring at me.
It's nice.

Another flash from the lighter
We're old and at a park
And still act like we're still trying to win the other over
Laughing and talking about the old bar
And roasting randoms from the bench

A final flick
I'm in my room again
You're staring at me and I just realized I've been looking at you
With a distant glazed look in my eyes for at least a minute now
"Are you okay?"
I don't know how to tell you I'm prepared to spend the rest of my life with you
Or tell you what just flashed across my mind with a flood of emotions I never thought I'd get

Either from being way too high, or for lack of better words, I reply
"Yeah. Just uh.... Zooted."

My house walks.
She's pretty unique in that sense
She breathes with a passion very few get to witness unless she wish it
And carries herself in the stance of a headstrong and charismatic woman

My Home speaks
With a demanding voice that snatches the attention of the soul
She speaks words riddled with experience and wisdom
And laughs like the first song you've ever heard.

My peace of mind travels
It rests on the shoulders of a beautiful vessel created to match the soul and mind of my home,
And unfortunately

When she's roaming, my house no longer has my home.