The question is never how,
But why?

She is a soul made of fire
In a world that is too afraid to burn.

Don't tell me you know me
Until you have known my scars
Until you have met all of my demons
Do not tell me you know me
Until you have seen all the missing pieces of my soul
Do not tell me you know me
Until you have danced with me on the flames that are my heart
And do not get to know me
If you are too scared to burn.

As we whisper the word
In the dead of night
Our souls have been
Forever united.

It isn't fair
What happened to you
But the worst things
Happen to the best people
Our hearts are broken
You were a gift
And you will be missed
They say angels
Have beautiful voices
Well I know now that's true.
Fly high in the sky.
We love you.

Life is too short
To hold your breath.

A poet is an extraordinary thing
made entirely of feelings,
ink,
one too many thoughts
but not enough sentences.