Like first time seeing stars in skies free of city lights.
Like late summer sun reflected golden in lake waves.
The light I see in you, through your eyes, right behind your face.

Through states or circumstance, that will make it feel afar.
I see golden lights, the dream, that defines who you are.

You have such stories, but no paper. Forced to make it from scratch.
While knowing the perspectives of the world that only you can catch.

I see fierce beauty in your bleak depiction of reality.
Disillusionment and disappointment,
because you know what reality was supposed to be.

At night you are a paper maker, while humming horrors of the world.
Words yearning for a canvas, with impatience, needing to be heard.
Words of night time skies, making paper makes you glow.
Dancing to the melody of light, in duet with your own shadow.

Because the world is clear to you, you make others see it too.
With such excitement, I just wait. I can see the future thanks to you.

A day of paper, you write light, for everyone to see. Your art.
The light I see through your eyes, right behind your face,
that defines who you are.

You are a master of pretending,
even when your life is ending.

An artist of escape
to avoid every heartache.

Most well dressed stranger
at any masquerade.

Who you meet in the mirror,
worthy of none of your affection.

It is difficult to love yourself
without a reflection.

“Come on”
    “Shut up”
         “Behave”
   when one day I burst into flame
     when every notebook I held burned up
           when dusty soot from attempts at art
                                                        just flew away
blinded by the pain
       it’s difficult to see
when every bed is flammable
                       it’s difficult to sleep
       enough sleep deprivation would
                                     drive anyone insane
“Don’t play the victim”
              “Don’t ask for pity”
      “Stop your constant complaints”
                      “Don’t give the fire
                                     power of mind
                                         allow it to grow
                                            into its own entity”
alive but aflame
   hiding with all my might
            they kept asking more
                                  “Be normal”
                                            "Helpful"
   ­                         “Smile for ***** sake ”
               while every glimpse of real
                          gave them a fright
when I in desperation sought
                        for water
                  at any cost
   just make the pain stop
                  while their words
                          created drought
in my life
  of burning flesh
      I kept trying to forget
                                start fresh
                got so good at pretending
                             invisible flames
            my life slowly ending
                 just not aloud
    my silence during emergency
             made them proud
when there was barely any left
  turned to dusty soot myself
     turned mute
        I dropped to my knees
                        I begged
they didn’t waste any time
         before saying
                                  “You have to understand,
                    everyone gets a little hot sometimes”

Look, here is a puzzle.

A mystery for you to solve.

You don't have the answer?

You're meant to have them all.

Just read the signs, in faces, reach out,

but never call. Don't ever ask the questions,

that's against the rules. You are the only one

that find the silence cruel. Only you find it to be

troubling. Everyone else can play this game, no problem.

some dream of warmth
some dream of flying

some spend mornings lying
balancing on the edge
between sleep and awake

half dreamt images
of dancing flames
closeness
heat warming their face

or lingering sensations
of falling
remembering soaring
through the sky


meeting someone
share the dream
such a rarity

find and be found
instead of searching
the reason we search

few words needed
when minds mere touch
feel like home

to know already
the smile in your voice
to words not said

the touch of your hand
in mine
without holding

few words needed
none allowed

to share a dream
is unspoken


there had been signs to indicate
you too hid matches in your coat

if one were to find them now
others not to be ignored
remember

tasting on your skin
a silent longing for
someone to share your skies


nothing now in your eyes
but squinting back to see

attempts at finding
wordless answers

some do not remember dreams
they have but half dreamt images
lingering sensations

if you had but asked
if only I had shared
I never wanted flying

I dream of fires