I was off!
"to hell and back," I said.
But now I cant quite seem to find my way back

That's the thing about a callused heart.
It still beats,
bleeds
And loves
the way any other heart does.
Its a matter of feeling those things that becomes difficult.

The people who set me on fire
to see me burn
Ask me why i glow
They're the ones who fill my ashes in an urn
to throw
And they are the ones who say i do not know
anything about love...
For all i know , all i know is love
not hatred upside down
And my ego gets diluted
as i rise in love unbound
For all i know,  
i do not know anything else but love
And that's why i glow
so don't ask me why
Just drop my ashes
and let every speck fly...
And forget my name
or i ever was

At times, I'm jealous
Of innocent lashes
And soft cheekbones
That lure you in,
For I was graced
With no grace at all.
But I was born
With fire in my eyes,
A razor sharp tongue,
And an insatiable hunger
That will not succumb,
And of that,
I am proud.

That is what poets do

They romanticize pain
They idealize the torment

There is solace in darkness
Which they craft to enlighten;

Lure with words
The forlorn is adorned
Guilt is charming
Mistakes rewarding

That part that is revolting
The best line in their poems.

That is what poets do

They embellish heartbreak
To cement the heartache

But as soon as they leave their paper
and beautiful words captivated readers

Life can no longer render
The adequate metaphor
Agony is agony;

There is no substitute for it.

and although i'll most likely make the mistake again...
you were the lesson i needed to learn.