Let's cut out our tongues.
We'll hang them from the empty wires in my backyard and
dance around them like soulless heathens or
wear them around our necks in remembrance of
the days we spent too much time talking
and not enough time touching
or loving.

We'll throw them away or
feed them to the dogs that live in the alley by that park next to the highway because
We don't need them!
We don't want them!

To speak,
We'll stare-- and blink in rhythms:
One blink, "I love you."
Two blinks, "I miss you."
Three blinks, "Stop effing blinking, you're freaking me out."
Right wink, "Hi darling, how was your day?"
Left wink, "It was marvelous, and now it's even better because you're here."
--That's all we ever say anyway.

To kiss,
We'll turn out the lights and
hold our heads together like puzzle pieces and
breathe each other's faces off,
taking turns drowning in
unwanted exhales.
--That's all we ever do anyway.

The light drizzle of
the raindrops is comforting
to my ears and mind.
It's just the relaxation
I desperately needed.

beautiful
yet ugly
wondrous,
yet-terrifying
proud
yet ashamed
wrist, thighs,
kept hidden
assumptions
and myths
when found
truth-hidden
forgotten
no one cares


shunned, pitied
disgust when found out
am i crazy?
maybe.
is that a bad thing?
probably.
do i care?
no.


short, beautiful scars
like a road map
show's me where i've been
how far i've come
how far i've yet to go.


i close my eyes
cut deeper, deeper
until the Demons in my head are quiet
hushed
from screeches to barely a whisper
but not silenced.
never silenced.
always there
lurking, creeping
trying to control me.


thankfully i remain in control.
i am the piolit
refusing to by hijacked
but am i in total control?
if i satisfy the Demons
am i doing the bidding of them?
or maybe am i taking control?
do the Demons control me?
i know not.
all i know:
i abhor
i adore
myself-


my scars.

a flame burning bright
a single light in the dead of night
illuminating the dark
dancing, burning hot
shades of red
shades of orange
shades of yellow
sparking desire
moving freely.
free?  as in freedom?
no! the flame is a captive!
because if it gets too strong...
disaster befalls everything it touches
such a wild flame, if allowed to breath,
would surely destroy.
a beauty, when controlled.
a nightmare when allowed to be free.

a raindrop falling from the sky
always changing.
never constant.
unreliable.
sometimes a gas
sometimes a liquid
sometimes a solid
a need for consistency lingers,
but it was not meant to be
nature is against its will
the need, the want-
it's strong...
it's just not strong enough

I'm a flame, he is rain
nature tells me to hate him.
he can destroy me
my power, my destructive force
it's nothing compared to his power
he consumes me. all of me.
leaves me burned out.
nothing.
so why, when I burn bright again, do I want that raindrop?
some sort of suicide, if that's what you want to call it.
emotional and mental suicide
I'm attracted to the very thing that could finish me.
he seeks to destroy me.
like a lion, who stalks his prey.
and with that, fear grips me...

I shrink, barley a whisper.
my brilliance dims...
and in the quiet of the starlit sky
I fade.
I seek not life.
nor death.
I live only for the chase.
my time of *******'s at hand
i shall return-with a vengance
that makes babies cry
and grown men
who are trained to exterminate me
quiver in their boots.
and he shall taste fear.
i come back
not as a flame...
but as a BLAZE!!