If I could start a fire
And watch the world burn
Out
Out like a light, a shutter, a spark
For I am a star, a star to burn out
Out
To float in the space, in the void
Just to sit and wonder, and leave, just to go
Out.
I think I need something, I think I need-
I think I need to get out
Out.
I'll wipe the tears and the soot from the ash
Because this fires gone, the flames have burnt out
Out.
I am the flames that are gone.
I am the star that is dust.
I am the space in the void.
I think I need to get out.
Out.

Jealousy is like
A swarm of insects,
Within your bones and veins
With small feet- like knives
That cut and cut and scar
Leaving your pride stung
And your sense of self subsided.
Jealousy is like
Tar, thick and sticky
Leaving the words you want to say
Caught in your throat
The difficult words
Blocking your airways
Leaving you gasping for breath.
Jealousy has become
Another ***** to me.
It burns my chest, swirls my stomach
Flashes behind my eyes
Emerald green, a vial of poison.
I feel it as part of me
Just as much a part
As the parts of me
It made me loathe.
I live with jealousy
I am jealousy
The tumour, the parasite, the ****.
Who am I to fight it
When it has become so at home
For it is I who fuels it
And lives with it alone.

What I want
Is a hand to hold
Warm and rough to the edges
Clasping my palm and my fingers
Like an embrace.
What I want is a conversation
A check in
Someone who wants to know that I'm OK
Even if I don't have an answer right now.
What I want is someone
Someone who thinks of me
Not to benefit themselves
But because they want to
Someone who cares.
But what use are wants, I'm sure I have many of them.

In my mind
There is a place
Where green grass grows
And sunbeams filter
Softness
A sweet glow of gold.
This place
is unlike any other
The leaves on the ground
And the fallen branches
Whisper to me
A gentle reassurance
That any path here is safe.
The sky is forever blue
Not a mass of brightness
Radiating like an LED sign
Instead a water colour painting
Of pale hues
A silky blue
Dotted with wispy white clouds.
Here I could sleep forever
And wake to
Petals
Pink and light
Falling on my face
Like the flurries of
First snow in winter.
Here they speak of heroes
Mighty rulers
Kings and Queens
Their Princes behind them.
But what need is there
For a brave hero
When no villain lurks
Around the corner.
And what do powerful Kings
Rule over
In a world of freedom?
This place is a moment
Not a continuing existence
But a glimmer
A possibility
Of what could be.
But
Stranger
Don't think too hard
Lay back
Bathe your skin
In warmth and light
And tell yourself
For now at least
You are content.

To me, my eyes are windows
My soul exposed
Showing to the world
My every joy or suffering.
What I never realise
Is how the windows are blocked
Curtains drawn
Blacked out from the inside
With cardboard and tape
A weak defence
Subconsciously put up
A weak defence to hide behind.
My tears are blocked in
Slowed to an escaping trickle
Burning and stinging
As it prevents the waterfall.
Can't you see
How I feel?
I'm drowning here
Look through the gaps
Through the window
A broken soul remains.

Words are like
Spilled ink on a page
They mean nothing
But stain everything they touch.
These words
Burn and can heal
Destroy and bring together.
I have known them to
Create an empire
But then send it crashing down
A ghostly reminder
That the pen is mightier than the sword.
These words
Are sharp and cutting
They have to be
In order to catch and claw
The attention that they want.
In the wrong hands
These words
Can obliterate
But can also be useless
And ruin reputation.
These words are
A weapon, a living
A way to live
They are older
And wiser than you
Or me.
Let them sit for a while
Get a good look
For these words
Will come and go
With the springtime.

Why amongst the peace
And simplistic
Normality
Do I feel dread
Burning up inside
Acidic and sour
Upon my tongue.
What is this hollow
Emptiness
That cannot be filled
with birthday cake
Laughter
And smiles
A hollowness that echoes
And drums
Beating in my ear
Until I feel dizzy and sick.
The thud of it
Rushes like
Footsteps
Stomping
And Stomping
An endless cycle
That can be drowned out
But never stopped
For it rings in my head for days
And pounces when
I am vulnerable.
Sometimes I wish
It would stop
But sometimes
I let it wash over me
Like a cycle of waves
Over my head
Over it all
Until it ends
And I rise
A survivor of the wreckage