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Born of Fire Jun 2015
I miss the way your body molded around me under the covers and how your skin gently kissed mine. Your soft breathing rustling across my skin, singing me to sleep. I miss the gentle snores after you had floated into sleep, your arm tucked over and under me. I miss the way you would twitch in your sleep, notifying me of a night terror. I miss the way your snoring would ensue with a hand on your head and a kiss on the cheek. I miss the way your eyes would meet mine in the morning, with a faint smile as your hand rose to my face. How gingerly your lips met mine. How caring your handling was, as if I was porcelain and you were rock. I miss the way your hand found mine, almost as if by accident, as we walked side by side. I miss the way your body would find a spot in my arms so perfectly, and how you rested against me with repose. I miss how your voice would raise in pitch when you were excited, and your eyes would gleam brighter than normal. I miss the surprise visits and the way you looked at me. I miss seeing you every day. I miss the harshness of your words as they rolled across your tongue and spilled over the ridge of your lips. I miss all of your broken promises and somber apologies. I miss the rage. My heart has been mutilated by so many others, yet still beats the strongest when my eyes graze across your image.
Born of Fire Nov 2014
Masks is all I've ever known. All i thought i knew was camouflaged by the complacent world around me. I grew with a fool's sight and an idiot's judgement. I learned eventually, that everyone gets to make their own mask.  You knew how to pull mine away from my skin for moments that seemed to stand still, lacking oxygen. I got defensive at the fact that your mask was so thick, and seemed to be sewn into your cheeks. I never even got to see you remove the mask before the tides yanked me into the storm of insanity. My heart slows at the sight of the empty roads, they remind me of the look in your eyes the night you told me I wasn't worth the trouble. I'm galaxies away from a place to call home. The dark sky mocks me in a way I never thought so heart wrenching.  The lights don't comfort me like they did before your eyes grazed across my skin. It wasn't until you left I realized you were using bullets instead of kisses. And my shell shock still persists. I have gun shells lodged in my skin. Your subliminal phrases struck glass into my mouth like lightning, which runs like tornadoes through my lungs. When I breathe out, all that escapes is you. I thought I was tough using your words as armor, i was convinced that that is what tough was. I didn't let anyone remove the metal from my chest, and no one gained access to the tender parts of my body. I believed in my heart that I was protecting myself, building an imaginary shield. Encasing myself in fear and caution.  But now I can see the glass in my lungs was only smoke from the cigarettes I held onto late at night, a substitute for your hand in mine. The artillery living inside my skin was just purple scars and it wasn't shock, it was highly dilated pain. Heart stopping, ***** inducing pain. And it wasn't going to go away. Because if I'm using my pain as armor, when can happiness ever replace that?
  Sep 2014 Born of Fire
Dark Circles beneath her eyes
The fire in those eyes
now replaced by sadness
of knowing too much
Of trying too hard
the more she saw,
the less she knew
the more she tried,
the less things worked

She kept *restlessly brooding

why the world is so raNdom
and what if the littlest thing that she did
made it fall apart?
(Restless brooding)
A girl of 17
never felt safe in her own skin
She comes in all the shades of self-loathing

(Restless brooding)
Living a life of mediocrity
Good, but never the best
not worth the change in your pocket.

(Restless brooding)
Centre of the group,
her smile was just that contagious
Chased by many, understood by none
Always loved mystery,
maybe that's why she became one

(Restless brooding)
Red is the color of rust that calms her
Jagged cut across her thighs
She comes with a self-destruct button and hence pushes away the very thing she likes
she wants to decrease the casualities

(Restless brooding)
Sleep won't come easily to her
so she writes and reads
that's pretty much her life
by the window she cries
for the characters whose brokeness resembles her life
but if you ask her why
she'll evade vaguely

(Restless brooding)
She increases the volume of her headphones
to mute the voices in her head
voices which try to drag her to the past
a past she'll never get rid of

(Restless brooding)
with every second that passes by
she pushes the world a little more far away
but she always smiles
so that must mean she's okay, right?

Dark circle beaneath her eyes
because *she spends her night
talking to the stars
and conspiring with the moon
against the demons she herself has created
trying to find the key
to the lock she has chained around herself

And one day she will
one day she will realise
*her light can't be contained
and those dim eyes will shine again
One day she will not be afraid of being herself
even if she does not know who she is yet
Next time you ask someone how they're and find them smiling do try to catch  a glimpse of what's going on inside. smile can be deceptive. Thanks. Have a good day. Love you. Thanks for reading
  Sep 2014 Born of Fire
I would rather suffocate and drown in my mind than ask for your help
I would rather swallow shards of glass than keep up with this silence
I would rather spend my night counting stars than have a dream about you
I would rather cut my skin off than feel your touch burn them while you love someone else
I would rather have my tongue forget how to speak than call for you every single night in my sleep
I would rather bleach my brain with HCL than have it think about you always
I would rather burn down this house and lose myself somewhere than try looking for you
I would rather drown the butterflies in my stomach with alcohol than have them fluttering, dancing on your tone
(But truth be said, i would rather spend a second with you and a lifetime reminiscing that moment than be with someone else)

I'll bleed till I've no more of you inside me
I'll smoke you till I've exhaled all of your empty words that i was fed
I'll cry till i don't know what i was crying for
*I'll write till I give you something that weighs you down
just like how your goodbye weighs my heart down
It's not good, is it?
Born of Fire Sep 2014
I sit in here in my window seal half naked, with my window open and the smell of freshly soaked grass wafting in with the flashing lights of the sky.

At this point in my life, i dont know what the hell is going on. Im trapped between the walls of my heart and the confines of my mind.
I am the once solid foundation of your home, after the earthquake shook your house to tears.

I am the once smiling face, after your lover left.

My heart, once beating strongly and lightly, now pouts, cold and hardened, next to my once healthy lungs.

No words can bring the soul back into my eyes, nor can any kiss bring the color back into my cheeks.

My hands cant hold him anymore, for they seem to only shake and become numb.

My mouth is no longer capable of forming soft gentle words, only harsh and savage, broken phrases pass over the cusp of my lips.

My mind finds no comfort in the things once enjoyed by my being, accompanied by the music of my laughter echoing through the corridors of a once happy home.

My legs no longer know where they are pushing me, my feet are unsure of where to step.

People say that no one is lost.

But could you tell me where i am?
Born of Fire Jul 2014
And i miss you. You tore a rip clean around my heart. And after several months of ignoring me, the stitches i made could be taken out to reveal the nasty scars. The broken thing inside of me seemed to be breathing properly, and on your birthday you forgot who i was. A knife sliced through the scars, disrupting already damaged tissues. Never before had i remembered hate being a comfortable feeling. Hurt, ached inside of every cell. Birthdays seem to be a trap for us. You left me on mine. You forgot about me on yours. Another couple of months went by, you forgot about me even more. I tried to forget and move on. My hope failed me again. I stayed awake that night, until the sun rose on my sorrow. Funny how a sunrise can give you such a sinking feeling. I cried, hoping the tears would swell me to sleep, they just made the pain seep into my face and my collar bones. I thought about you that night, wondered if you were alone with your thoughts again, letting the back of your eyes rot with the white of the ceiling in your room. Or were you out in a darker place, getting high as your heart continued to suffocate? When they told me about what had really happened between you and them, everything connected. And unlike how i found out you had crawled back to her and she denied you made me happy, this only made things immensely worse. It was largely the fact that i gave you every part of me, salvaged all the small pieces and bundled them for you. You treated me like an object instead of human and i was too in love with you to realize it. But the thing is you can't walk around hurting people every chance you get. You asked her why she didn't care, well what about you? How could you dispose of me so quickly and in a rush as if you had committed a crime? For a time rage consumed me. Washed over me like running water. I wanted to tear you down and watch you disintegrate into a lake of sadness. Every other person in my life knew there was a million reasons for me to leave you. No one cared to save me. It showed me that no one is gonna be there when you're drowning in corrupted love. But i have always wanted to save you from the destruction coursing through your soul. I always wrote about burning the sentiments you gave me and collecting the ashes in a jar as a gift to you. And the twisted part of me figured that as much dust as i collect, equally would be your sorrow. I had only wished for you to stop breathing in so much dust. My mind seemed to go through a fluctuation between hate and misery. There was never an in between. I wished for you to stop cupping your hands to catch my tears so you could wash away your grief. When dejection turned into loathing you made me hurt other people. You lit matches for me to burn bridges and gave me a sledgehammer to destroy homes of happiness. Eventually the chaos got back to me and i ended up eroding myself. I convinced myself i was to put myself in danger to feel alive. Well the opposite occurred and i started dreaming about you. I dreamt of your smile, your laugh, your eyes, with an illuminating spark to them. Waking up was like realizing i had been buried alive in a small coffin, and I'm sure you don't remember how claustrophobic i am.  The fourth night dreaming about you, i turned into the living dead. I slowly melted into a shadow, still frames of you glued into the creases of my mind. Soon enough only wishes swept through my mind. I asked a god for some sort of baptism, and it never came and any form of faith diminished from my eyes. How could one person instill so much pain?
The adventures did change me. Not in the context i thought you meant.
  Jun 2014 Born of Fire
Nathan Squiers
The air was thick with rancid hate as we squared off in the mist of night.
There was no words--no grunts nor groans--that oozed past sneering
lips. It was a rustic sort of torture; the time slithering between you
and I, as we each came to grips that only one could anticipate the
dawn. Oil stained the rain-soaked way; the alley shimmered in
the moon. I couldn't recall what had brought us there; what
ill-will we shared. And though your eyes shone with scorn,
I swear you felt the same. It was then the hatred started
rolling like a current 'cross my back; as though the
energy inside of me was fighting to break free.
I watched with eyes uncaring as the glass
began to break, and scattered bits of this
and that began to whip about! You had
never known me well enough to truly
know what lurked within, and as
your startled eyes betrayed your
fear I knew that I'd already won.
So much viscous agony--such a
glorious defeat--a body left in
ruin. I stared at what I had
done, awash in a morbid
optimism, and I saw the
shards of glass twinkle
under a cracked light.
Consumed by the
sight, I saw you
sink into a sky
of oil and filth
and eternal
I was inspired by some busted beer bottles that sparkled on the side of the street like stars when I was driving one night. The irony of a beautiful night sky replicated in such a violent way got me to thinking of how I, myself, could create such a replication while paying homage to the inspiration. Because of the death theme, I wanted to start with a very broad, wordy "life" and slowly dwindle it away. Submitted for your approval, ladies and gentlemen, I give you "Urban Starlight."
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