I cusp this fragile thing
Light, nestled in between
Steadily burning red
Sometimes
A little blue instead
In tiny cracks, the air
Forces flames to flicker
Wasn’t really able to finish this prose
Maybe it was my subconscious
Trying to warn me
But here we go again
Finishing this thing
With an exhale
I let this ******* flame die

I felt my head explode
In between one blink and the next
I heard a bomb go off in my chest
In the same second I exhaled a breath
I recounted every awful inch of flaw
By the time it took for my hair to be tucked
I smiled and answered back to you
While I cringed inwardly at a passing memory
The truth is I am so exhausted
The train in my brain is stuck in a loop
I am a passenger trapped
Desperately praying for a station
Where I can get off and this can ******* stop.

She painted her walls
The brightest of yellows
That when she opened her eyes
She would feel some warmth
Instead of being so hollow
She wanted to paint some more
The purest of blues
Even a touch of verdigris
High up on the ceiling
In awnings and moldings
But she came home with nothing
When she couldn’t quite buy
The kind of blue in the sky
One day she looked up
To cracks of blue between the clouds
In every widening crack
Is somebody holding a paintbrush
They would paint and paint
Until every blue is used up
She wanted so much
She wanted with all of her heart
For some spilled paint she could catch
When her tears cleared
She saw someone floating down
He landed without a sound
He did not offer her some spilled paint
But in his paint stained fingers he held
A piece of the sky
She grinned and looked up
For he had missed a spot.