White lines on your wrists like lightning scars
The electricity sparking through your veins
Igniting a forest fire on your tongue and infernos in your chest.

You will not submit to them
You are not a controlled flame
There are scars on your wrists and that storm will thunder in your throat

Your blood is on fire and its burning through your skin
You cannot hide in the shadows for you are glowing
Come out and show them who you can be

Images skirt my mind
Spiraling around
Adrenaline pumps through my veins
And a night run
Doesn’t sound like a bad anecdote

Miles burn holes
In the souls of my shoes
And my muscles tense
Under the traction
Of the hard concrete

I imagine cool air
Burning my lungs
Sharp inhales
And deep exhales

But what no one knows
Is that I keep secrets
Hidden beneath long sleeves

Because miles
Aren’t good enough
For the scale
And retching into a toilet
Wouldn’t illuminate
My bones

Metal and blood
Won’t re-stitch  
Too tight skin

Feeling like the five year old girl
That glimpses back at me
With wide bright eyes
And a vast imagination
I remember

Horses spinning around
Lights blinking colliding clashing
Candy painted lips
The smell of cotton candy
And how she loved
Carousels

Wasted days
Wasted nights
I'll get it together
I won't waste my life

The man named Tim approaching
the small child silently
his finger touches him
and rapes the kid violently

Doing escapades
is just not enough for you.
You make sequels
to previous mistakes
and just like films,
they get worse and worse.