These flames too far to lend me warmth,
my heart too cold to stay unharmed.
We were ripped apart
as the target of a dart,
thrown with similar audacity.
I pity myself
for being driven
for letting go of the wheel,
for losing touch with
what should have been
kept real.

We feel these things we cannot see,
we aim to become what we cannot be,
grasping, clawing, endlessly,
feasting, gnawing on
reality.