Look at me, smoldering bones. You are cooking inside yourself. You refuse to let out your heat, so you will burn up. You will burn. Open up, smoldering bones. you’re withering wild. why?
Come with me, smoldering bones. We’ll live in places where your anxieties die it’ll be home for you and me. give me the map for the maze of your mind, lonely soul. I don’t care about the exit as much as I care to wander through your weeds I have them too.
They’re dandelions. children whose parents didn’t make them learn not to cry call them wishes.
Let your wishes grow, wayfaring one. Your vagabond mind keeps you safe from all those whose heads have never touched heaven’s eyebrows.
Allow me to love, smoldering bones. your eyes screened with your past don’t block the color. I understand your heart is out-of-order at the moment, but I’m not asking for anything. Just that you’ll realize you’re worth loving. Let me love you, my dark dreamer. And one day, you’ll see those weeds as flowers, as magic. And then I know, those smoldering bones have stopped their smoking for good.