It always amazed me how
when a forest fire sparks
even the rain cannot
cease the rage.
In a way I
guess I'm the same.
You see, a flame
grows in me.
I always used to tell my mother
she was a volcano and
I, a tornado.
When we clashed
even the Titans would run in fear.
Anger is a tiresome thing.
I used to imagine myself
with a glowing white light
that protected my body,
a force field or an aurora
of sorts.
Yet now the reflection
that stares back at me
is black and cold.
All I see is
a corpse.
If I covered my body in
gasoline and lit a match
I wouldn't feel anything
but the sunlight on my cheeks
and the ground beneath my feet.

We're all trapped looking at
the shadows on the wall.
The figures in the mirror.
This is our reality.
The Allegory of the Cave.
Break free from your chains
and receive pain.
The world we've been handed
is an illusion.
Just accept the 23
the unknown is too far.
Ever expansion.
Look past the Galaxy
of Golden imagination.
I want facts.
Theories will not settle.
Darwinist matter
whirling into a black lagoon.
Being engulfed
in the philosopher stones.
I don't want to believe that.
The roses are too sweet
lulling me back two years ago.
I hear the thunder yell
as I lose my glasses again.
Search and search for
sacred fossils.
Illusion and reality.
I am Queen Victoria
and I can't stand the sound.
Go in limitless circles
while Robert Browning lies to us.
Waylay to the West Indies.
Bank out the skulls.
Support me I need,
counsel in asylums.
My head spins often.
"Are you on drugs?"
The grass is mixed with blood
ominous in curses.  
Dusty suppression
I doubt myself,
Please don't die today.
Your spirit is no longer weak.
Laugh at my epitaph,
I am an epitome of melancholy.
Your malicious cries
Stab hell into my stomach.
The villain is my own mind.
Shall I keep going?
Turn around and look back,
the road is gone.
Obstacles may exist
Sing them away.
Your pain is powerful.
Engrave a path of progression.
Death is the final accomplishment.
So why bother?
Analogies tell
you must travel with bravery.
Perspective of the potted,
do not **** your soul.

you're taller now
body curves filled in the right places
and your hair falls with the utmost ease
they start to notice you now
they want to kiss you,
please you,
love you
and all you want to do is grow fangs
razor sharpe
that can tear out their eyes
those same eyes that judge you
with maligner
calling on you
through licentious demons
you want to fight back now
demonstrate your fortitude
you are woman
you are maker
you can't bare to see ****** oppression
you're uncomfortable now
as he touches your thigh
slowly groping your ***
making way up
he sees it as a peccadillo
you see it as your fault
you can't look at yourself now
you are not woman, human, living
you are dead now
filled with malaise
becoming a malefactor to your own soul
you are no longer you now
a mendacious being, only lying to yourself
to save yourself
when all you are
is no more.

The rain makes the world gray,
gray like the way your touch felt on my thigh.
You looked so handsome today,
with your voice as melodic as angels
and I couldn't help myself to think that although I want you to be happy,
I can't bare your happiness not involving me.
I know it's selfish,
but we're all generation me.
And you frustrate me because I can't figure you out.
You're a shifting maze,
I'm trapped in you
        and I couldn't be happier.
I think of you often and wonder how you could hate me
But demons aren't meant to be loved,
or fixed.
I constantly desire your love,
or at least a reassuring glance.
But you are white and I am black,
I wish I could say
we blend together impeccably.
But I'm just being naive.
I guess we can just blame it all on the rain.