Sometimes I’m the flame of passion;
the smoke of burn-out; searching for God
through fire, finding your face in the ashes.
A face alone in crowded rooms,
body heat striking matches; love feels
heaven-sent, and hell-bent together.
When I pray unheard, am I praying
to God—or preying on your heart?
Maybe we were only a May love;
secret codes on love’s walkie-talkie.
Now my lungs scream mayday, mayday,
trying to breathe your name again.
May 15
May 15, 2026 at 5:19 PM UTC
Sometimes I’m the flame of passion;
the smoke of burn-out; searching for God
through fire, finding your face in the ashes.
A face alone in crowded rooms,
body heat striking matches; love feels
heaven-sent, and hell-bent together.
When I pray unheard, am I praying
to God—or preying on your heart?
Maybe we were only a May love;
secret codes on love’s walkie-talkie.
Now my lungs scream mayday, mayday,
trying to breathe your name again.
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