I can feel it down to my knees.
It terrifies me to fidgets.  
Not like that serial-killer-
chasing-my-pure-as-the-wind-driven-snow-***-
aroun­d-some-secluded-farmhouse-
in-the-middle-of-the-night-
when-I-hav­e-the-least-possible-chance-of-survival
kind of “terrify.”

I compare this kind of “terrify” to
the first time I set eyes on the Atlantic.
A hushed minute—
my eyes straining to see the end
of that blue on blue horizon.
And I’m
so filled with wonderment
at the thought of such a treacherous beauty—
I think, without question,
the idea of it all will surely swallow me whole.

Truth is
I'd jump right down that throat
without a single hesitation
if I knew the feeling would stick.
Truth is
I stay put—
because I know
that just because you plant a seed
doesn't mean it wants to grow.

They say when you think about someone you “like,” you get butterflies in your stomach.
When I first heard that, I laughed.
I don’t feel butterflies with you.
I feel a wildfire.          
Every word you spit is kindling to the scalding embers in my throat,        
welding my words into bars too heavy for my tongue to lift.                    
I scream fire yet you wouldn’t **** to put me out.
Sweet suffering;
The sickness in my stomach
Like eating too much ice cream at once        
And your heat is inescapable.
Why?
I don’t know
Why?
I don’t know.        
Why?
I don’t know!
Why?
I can’t!
Because the truth is: you could burn away every string of flesh in my body and I would still find 206 reasons to stay carved into the marrow of my bones.
You are not the exhilaration of the fall,
You are the sweat in my palms before I jump.
You are not the volume in my voice,
You are the way I bite my lip before I speak.
You are the finish line on a hot mid-day
And I am the last runner to finish.
If you are a wildfire,              
Then time is a pile of dead Autumn leaves
And we didn’t know any better.
One day I hope you look back and see all that you’ve burned.
There will be people who are rivers and streams and men in yellow
Who will drown you with words and water                
Because they’ve never seen red
And you will always be the only force in existence they cannot touch.
I think you will always be a wildfire
Even when I become a storm-cloud
And you are a timid flame.

I don't have the means or the time
and it is beating down my heart to where I can't breathe.
In my head I am soaring to the end with great purpose
and stealing all the moments to share with no one.

Staggering, swaying, I stumble toward the prize.
The conquest is there, I can imagine it.
Within my reach, it is still miles away.

Why can't I just take it, possess it?
What stops me?
I know I want it, I know I deserve it.

But maybe I don't know anything at all.
I've lost what is real, what is actual.
Too many pictures develop in my head
of what can be, what should be, what could be.

Indecision has become a way of life.
A weigh of life.
Burdening the spirit with relentless torment.

What seems so easy to others
Becomes a festival of despair.
A mockery of triumph.

There is elation in the capture.
There is misery in the letdown.
If I could just know what is right,
Even if the right is truly wrong.

Who shares this wavering doubt?
Responsibility is mine alone,
but please take the load away from me.

I hold onto hope, hold onto forward.
To stagger back would only extend the pain,
without ever knowing the truth.

The ability to recognize is such a tremendous gift.
Assurance with the cards of play
Belief that what is wrong will be exact
Confidence in self to make the right choice.

Every day I wait
is just another day waisted
yet Im caught in a web indecision
I fear that If I initiate the change
the change I think I want
when It comes to be reality
it wont be as I thought
and that change I'll come to regret

So the fear consumes me
paralyses me, ***** me dry
just as a spider does to a fly
so what the **** am I to do
I'm being stretched like a rubber band
soon I must snap