It paints her mouth
the one that breathes fire,
and kisses the burns.
Deep reds and somber blacks.
Her petals caress his skin
so that he cannot escape her sweet scent
and he gets lost
in the desire he has for her.
The paint on her lips keeps her sane
and stops the demons
from escaping through her lips.

i lived on a mountain of death,
surrounded by only the voices of my head.
lost and never to be found.
~
i stumbled down the mountain,
breaking my bones
and snagging my heart on the thorns,
turning black and fading,
till i no longer feel it’s pain.
~
at the bottom i came across a lake of tears,
born from his storm-filled eyes.
so i tried to paddle across,
in a boat made from my soul.
~
but there were many holes in the wood,
so the boat sank
and i was left drowning
in his sadness,
while death crept down the mountain
and into my lungs.

You're born
fresh,
innocent,
like flowers just picked,
in a small delicate vase.

You grow into a little tot.
Get a few
bumps and bruises
but you're still just as innocent.
And the flowers,
still as beautiful.

In the blink of an eye,
you're a big kid.
More bumps and bruises appear,
maybe you're a little,
tiny bit worn down.
And the flowers,
in the moments before wilting.

Next thing you know,
you're a royally ****** up teenager.
Life has had a go at you.
All you are is bumps and bruises.
And the flowers, wilted,
almost completely dead.

An adult,
you're all grown up.
Life rewards you for making it.
You get to become
completely numb.
And the flowers,
dead.