so the dance has come to rest
your world locked inside some chest
the key is hidden
as always

in the place where you hide all things

the tomb of being you
the nails you bought
the coffin you're constructing
just so your own body can fit

how does the story end?
you wait
half-smiling

inexplicably and without method

I guess you could call it poetic how by the age of 12 I had no recollection of what happiness tasted like on my tongue. Some would say it was tragically beautiful.
But it was not poetic, nor was it beautiful,  but it was tragic. It was so very, very sad, and that sadness is only doubled now that people see sorrow as glorious.  It is not glorious. It is not strength. It is a lump of iron in your chest and stomach and it eats you from the inside, out and you have no right to think that blood stained wrists are anything other than tragic. So very,  very tragic.

We have even died 'together'
in my imagination.

Vine grows through the cracking stone
and vibrations form the runes in bone
The mist that gathers on my sword
Calls my eyes to the valkerie songs
Whispering to my dripping blood
I shall see my forever home

The earthy smells are rich and aromatic
I quake as I call for wisdom and strength,
My right eye burns and I see
My leather is worn and comfortable
the fire crackles and sparks fly
with every stoke beneath the spit

A pair of wolves in the distance look in my direction, entering an ancient forest. I don't notice the raven pair in the distance watching. I shiver as I feel the green energy growing in me and eolh is calming as I carve it into wood. I am the fire.

There are wild roses.
They grow up through the cracks
in the pavement,
they have thorns
they have petals
the bees hover, but never settle
the bare feet step, unknowing
their soles then showing
thorns trapped beneath the skin.
they offer their dangerous beauty to the sun
they stay in one place; they never run.

That's not a God, that's a sense of entitlement
A sugarcoated dishevelment in disguise
You don't have dreams, just infatuations
Turning hope into self-indulgent lies

I turned away from New York just to know you
Silver showered soldiers singing serene
I turned away from myself just to love you
But I don't think you know what love means

You're not alone, just afraid of isolation
Afraid no one will be better than me
I'm not that great, I say without hesitation
Someone will love you more, just wait and see

My opinion of you changes like the skyline
A star among the cascading dark
Baby, don't let yourself flame out
Before the rest of your fire starts