Use of heat
engulfs your ends
Into a splintered crisp.
Every inch you sear
Irons out the curls in your mane.

Flick the lighter,
Spark up some magic
And bring that
Shy, crying ember
To your dry lips.
The harder you inhale,
The faster you burn.

Smoke sneaks around
Your body and
Encapsulates you in
A hazy plume.
The scorch marks on your arm
Emphasizes your need
For warmth.

You seem to think you’re
A phoenix by how often
You play with flames,
But how high will you rise?

Will the ashes you’ve left
behind provide you with
a rebirth
or purge you into
the hearth forever?

How long will your eyes
Stay ignited,
Because every time you
Play with snowflakes,
You become a dimly lit,
Sputtering flicker.

I go out to dinner with a near stranger
we sit on the same side of the booth and
I think about how you're the only one who
knows how much I hate that

I drink a drink with ***** and lime and
***** and it almost makes me feel like
I know who I am when I'm with someone else

I don't think of you often but last night I did
I remembered how your arms are the
only place where I am not self-conscious

I lie next to him on my balcony and
there are a lot of stars above us but
I'm the only one who notices

he is thinking about what I look like naked and
I'm counting how many hours of sleep
I will get if he leaves before 2

there is not an absence of feeling,
just a different kind than I'm used to
he touches my hand and I smile in
a way that doesn't feel forced

I spend a day with a near stranger and realize
there is so much he does not know about me,
so much he doesn't care to

like how I got my nose pierced at 14 or
the amount of time I spend in the mirror each morning
picking myself into something I can carry only semi-confidently

he only learns I can't ride a bike when he asks if I want to
he has no idea that my blonde is shielding a deep brown or
when I got the freckle above my lip or
the inch long scar underneath my chin

he doesn't care and that's okay
when he leaves we say I miss you but
in a different way than I'm used to

it is not a pain swelling to be morphined
nor is it a pulling from the gut but instead
it is the ever temporary desire to fill the excess lonely

we say I miss you and still mean it but
it is not the missing that a body feels for
a phantom limb

I am with him now and probably will be again but
moving on doesn't mean I don't miss you
it only means I'm trying not to

just because I'm all right doesn't mean
I don't wonder how you are
I can still be happy with the existence of a quiet ache

but yes I do
miss you,
I will until the day I can sleep without having to count sheep
I will miss you even if there are no stars in the sky to remind me

I don't think of you but last night I did
the moon was too bright and
I was the only one
who noticed

Sometimes your only escape is sitting in a room of darkness. Even with the different color paints you have no motivation to become an artist. So you sit cradeled into a ball brawling because there's no other response. Nothing about you or the things surrounding you shows acts of noncholance. And that's when you faill into a trail of despair. You see  yourself walking in the tears shed in the air. It must be black and an open invitation to run away. You can't think rationally and there's to many options to weigh.
In your hand you see a substance dripping pure black. In this substance you visualize everything you lack. You can see your soul burning into a ashes. There in your eye you can see constant flashes. This is your comfort state.
A Neverland of madness.
Here everything is okay there's even ending in your sadness. A Neverland  where your words are curses. And In your last existance you hear the venom versus.

freckles
that look like constellations
eyes
the color of a sea green ocean
bones
that sprout wildflowers between them
but a mind
that is torn apart
identical
to her heart
and she does not
cannot
will not
understand
that after the storm
she'll                  connect the stars
she'll                         see the crashing waves
she'll                                 feel the fields of flowers
and
she
will
be
whole

I know the pain you feel is deep,
your want from life is simple peace.
And though I cannot guarantee,
please listen closely, as I speak.

Presently you stroll alone,
searching for a hand to hold.
You feel your sorrow in your bones,
in harshest sun, you still feel cold.

Pre - dawn, however, is darkest night
that must be followed by morning light.
I pray you won't give up the fight,
the universe will set things right.

I know at times, it seems unclear
that happiness is always near.
But wholly I believe my dear,
someday soon, you'll find some cheer.

I hate that feeling.
           that feeling when you're sad,
But you have no idea why.
           You feel so **** void,
but nothing has happened.
           They ask you what is wrong,
but you can not explain.
           Or they did not ask anything,
I do not know what is worse.
           It just feels like I miss someone,
someone I never met.
           I need someone who does not need me.
Loneliness hovers over me,
           takes control of me.
I do not even care.
           I extricate itself from the goals.
Sadness for now is my best and only friend.
           I begin to hate myself and
I want everyone to leave me alone.
          At the same time,
I want someone to hug me and
          told me that everything will be okay.

**I just hate that feeling.
That feeling,
when you do not even know what the hell you feel.

Thousands of doors are going
To open Today
After a Long Day
Of Sultry Dark
Slowly moving Clouds
But what it is!
As if the speed of the wind more than
A Hurricane

Extreme sound Rocking the Sky,
The Home
And the Expanding
Barren Field,  
Repeatedly being Thunder Around
As far as I can See
Across the Horizon
The Rain has come down
As Cats and Dogs
 
Dim Light in the Room
Hope, despair shaken
Windows Open
Southern waves
Randomize the Poetry Books
Flying Pages,
Never before or after in the

The Scent of the Poetry
In the Air
Sky-word Sentences
I have seen my Reflection
In the Light of the Short
The past Knocking
On the Closed Door
To open the Wide Sky

You have sat down
In the Horizon
That has reminded
The First Love Poem
Where I read
And planted my Dreams
Bringing the garden
Roses,
Marigold,
Sunflowers

Where there the moonlit
Of moonlight has
Crafted the Dreams  
Like an Imagination
As if,
Unclogging Peacock's Feather

But the sudden wind  
Increasing the Velocity
Light has been Extinguished
Yet the Flame Alive
But don't see my Reflection,
In the distant Glass,
In the Poetry,
In the Words

In an Angular way,
Through the Windows
Rain coming into the Limelight
Put away the Poetry
And the Dreams
As the Books of Poetry has Seemed
Like the Stones

But Yet I'm waiting,
For The Next morning
Where the Hope will Come Again
In the Shining Smile of Light