i wish i could bundle up
all of my happy
and all of my wishes

every single
tiny little
smile i ever had

tie it up with hugs
wrap it up in kisses
and send it to you

to make you feel
not sad

I am the hermit who lives in my head.
I gather...
I analyse...
I stow away all that I've learnt.

Because when the wind would blow
and the earth wouldn't understand.
When the world would tremble,
shaken by man's ruthless hand.

I am the hermit who lives in my head.
I listen...
I keep...
I stockpile in the shadows.

Because in my blood exists grudge...
And my bones, weary from despair.
My skin screams exhaustion
and my body feigns to care.

I am the hermit who lives in my head.
I overthink...
I hide...
I hoard all my thoughts.*

Because the walls have ears
and these pages bear eyes.
What my heart truly knows...
Is that your mouth tells only lies.

The first time we ever spoke,
I thought you were annoying.

I asked you what your favourite colour was.
You said
"White, because when thinking in terms of the light spectrum, it is the combination of all the colours. When you look at a white light, you are actually looking at colours that human eyes can't even process. You are looking right at them, and you can't see them, but they are still there."

I thought that was the most beautiful thing I had ever heard.

-
-
-

I was sent to a white palace when I found out what happened to you.
I searched for you in every windowless room.

-
-
-

Our romance was a
flash flood in the middle of a drought,
quenching my parched soil,
and then drowning all forms of life for miles around,
but it was over far too soon
and left me ravaged,
yet thirsty for more.

-
-
-

I took my new husband-to-be to the place where you and I met.
He didn't leave my side the entire time
and we listened to the music echoing around the mountains
while he said beautiful things that I would have died to hear you say
and he kissed me in front of everyone,
just like I used to dream that you would,
but you never did.



I realize now that you weren't my soul mate,
but believe me when I say that
I did love you.

-
-
-

I still don't know what to think when I look back on it.
My open and paranoid mind
can never draw definite conclusions
as to what truly happened.
Reality is subjective.

All I know is that this world is much more quiet than it used to be without your constant chatter that I thought was annoying when we first met,
and the only closure I will ever get
is accepting that part of who I once was died with you,
but an even larger part of who you were lives on within me.

-
-
-

My favourite colour is white now.

I have loved you.

We are explosive.
Two sticks of dynamite waiting for the match.
Just one whisper of a spark and we'll go,
Dying to impersonate the stars
Like fireworks in the night.

Fire, you and I
But different, if you know where to look.

Flames of summer
You are wild and destructive,
Spreading yourself too thin
Like wildfires in the drought
Roaring challenges at the sun.
But in the cricket-filled cool nights,
Bringing comfort and memories to the young at heart
Taming yourself for a time beneath stars that bear my sign
Burning out in the darkness before sunrise
Ready to return at first spark.

Pyre of winter,
Tamed by the frost and wind
Leaning on hearths for strength
Keeping vigil in the long night
Raging against dark and dusk and death
Yearning for what was lost in the fall
Waiting for the rebirth of spring
Sending up grey prayers to stars that bear your sign

Fire, you and I.
Born to stars of flame
Raging, roaring, writhing
At the whim of the wind
Waiting
For the spark.