I'm a murderer
I've stabbed my own heart.
I'm a thief
I've stolen my own happiness.
I'm a liar
I've told myself how much better things would be.
I'm a slothful woman
I fell asleep.
I'm greedy
I've eaten my own pain.
I'm hungry
Just not for sin again.

She weeps not for the shore
As distance creates a shadow
She embraces the current
Becoming the wave
And gently pushes her sea home

She chases not the sun
As the day is put to rest
She is the moonlight
That cradles the stars
Tightly to her *******

She yearns not
Her pain-streaked tears
That fall below her feet
She is the soil beneath her toes
Her pain now colors the tree

She worries not
The flowers' bloom
Or the leaves that fall like rain
She is the wind
That will kiss the ground
And sweep it all away

To all the space heaters out there
Your warmth is well appreciated,
The walls, chairs, and windows thank you
Winter nights are much cozier by your side
And while a fire place is much more desirable
There is something about a space heater that is beautifully honest,
There aren’t any booms or blasts
You know why you’re here
And you’re dam good at your job.

But I don’t know what to do with you
My hands fear you
Because I left my oven mitts with the last fire
That was reliable as a fire work
That burned uncontrollably
Only to go out.
But you and your steady hum
You and your tenderness
That warms a room before I even flick you on
You’ve made your way into the beat of my drum
My skips have a rhythm that is to the bone
You keep me warm even when I’m alone.
I realized that I unplugged you in the waxing summer
But you persistent little thing you,
You rhythmic beast
You never turned off
There wasn’t a cold moment
Even when you left I was well supplied with fleece
And fist fulls of fiery passion
The humdy-dum continued on.

August brought external fortification
My walls are thicker
Windows insulated and furnace much quicker
Yet October knocked
And I opened the door.
I don’t need to
These lungs have brought much more than a warm touch
These hands have begun to create again
I now forge my own cadence.
But like a composure's proud piece of work
Like a inversely synchronized symphony
Your humdy-dum dances with my pitter pat
I don’t need you, I want you
And what could be warmer than that?