I am burning up
like a dying star
from the inside
out,
going supernova
as I am hopelessly
devoured
by the raging
fire
that lays in your
heart.

Your kisses
are smoke
that fill my
blackened lungs
and choke
the air
from my throat.

Your touch sears
flesh from bone,
flaying
me open
and branding
an indelible mark
on my
soul.

Consume
everything
that I am,
W I L D F I R E.

On a hot August night in Memphis
At the tinder age of forty two
Behind the gates of Graceland
America lost its tune

Gather round the throne room
The king is sadly dead
On the cold linoleum floor
Is where he last laid his weary head

Fought so many battles
In the star filled lonely life he lived
If you're keeping score this is one war
That he lost the battle in

His scepter it was golden
His voice it was the same
He just lost his soul is all
Somewhere along the way

With papers read the words they bled
Out on the written page
Tears that poured as the world all mourned
And still  do to this day

So bow your heads the king is dead
Elvis has left the building after all
Although long gone there is still the song
And he still is the king of rock and roll

Pool of tears on her blue eyes
Reflecting the abuse from society.
Her velvet soul is bruised.
She screams and yelps
But no one hugs her.
For all she does this while was planting sunflowers to others.
She is left alone
On cold nights.
And no one offers a cup of hot chocolate.
And for that her eyes are no longer blue
But black.

Three days ago I found my sunlight peeking through a crack on the back of a rusted dumpster. My body, forced into it by people unwilling to give me a second chance.


It was blistering cold and the wind cut like snowflake diamonds zipping all around. I remember I was walking home thinking “maybe this is all I have left to give”


So two days ago I decided I'd let that dumpster bright ray of sunshine go. If my only good moments were covered in filth, I'd rather just let them go.


My thoughts raced on what was ahead of me. A millennia of starscreams opening across the galaxy as my silhouette becomes the shadow of a dwarf.


I know I'll miss the sunlight though...and even through cracks in rust I think my sunlight might someday become platinum.


Yesterday I met a face that felt like hot shadows. She sung catapults of fire in my mind. I saw her on the stage at a local cafe, strumming demons away from my side. Her fingers bleeding sunshine through her fingertips. Dipped in ridges and vibration.


I found a fool's worth of hope in the skyline and lost a lifetimes worth on wishing.